


Blue Smoke

by osunism



Series: Lightning In A Bottle [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mage Origin, Origin Story, Ostwick, Ostwick Circle, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-06 12:50:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 31,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3135110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/osunism/pseuds/osunism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every hero in Thedas has a beginning. Hadiza Trevelyan was not always the Inquisitor, just as her predecessors, the Champion and the Hero were not always the legends they became. From a life of privilege and family, to one chained to the Circle, this is how Hadiza's path to becoming the Inquisitor began.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ostwick

**Author's Note:**

> Because the DA writing team (I assume) purposely left scant little information on House Trevelyan due to the myriad of ways one could play their Inquisitor, I took many liberties with fleshing out the background of my mage!Inquisitor, Hadiza, her mannerisms, her family etc. This is her story. Enjoy.

Across the Waking Sea, on a rainswept coast in the Free Marches, was a dual-walled city of stone. It was a city that saw frequent trade due to its proximity to the sea and its nearness to neighboring Ferelden, and it was one of the many cities firmly enclosed in the velvet fist of the Chantry and the Templar Order. The city itself was nice enough, but it bore the common severity often seen in the Free Marches due to the nature of its location and the history of the region. The Circle of Ostwick was a quiet place and mages sent there lived a secluded and comfortable life under the watchful eye of the Templars. It seemed there were to be no incidents from that front despite news from other cities where corruption abounded.

As the city was steeped in the Chantry’s influence, it came as no surprise that all was relatively quiet during the services…almost fearfully so. Of course, to Hadiza, this was everyday life.

“…and they looked on what pride had wrought…and despaired.” The Chant of Light was admittedly a grim piece of work when one gleaned the words in full, and yet the words had shaped and molded the very foundation of Thedas like an artist’s hands took to clay. They were the words that had ever filled her ears since before she was cognizant, and they would follow her for all her days. Hadiza was six years old and it was any other day in the Chantry.

The Trevelyan family—a noble and ancient house with a long and unblemished history of piety and devotion to Andrastianism—was seated in their usual location in the front pew. Her sister, Aja, sat next to her, swinging her legs in obvious boredom and picking her nose and wiping it all over the pew’s armrest. When she caught Hadiza looking, she stuck out her tongue. She remembered well that day, for her mother had worn the green velvet dress her father loved so well, for he said it put him in the mind that she evoked Andraste herself. Little Hadiza could not see it, for all the statues and reliefs she’d seen of the woman were dreary and severe, but who was she to argue with her father?

There was a light drizzle outside when the services ended, and Hadiza knew what came next. They—meaning her father and mother—would make their rounds greeting all, converse with the Chantry mothers and brothers, and perhaps linger a while. The rain would cut short these discourses and see the family into their carriage and headed back to the estate, and Hadiza and Aja would spend two hours contemplating the day’s sermons while her mother practiced her needlepoint.

It was an aggressively boring life they lived, but it was one of wealth, status, and luxury. Being the devout Andrastian he was, their father did not indulge in the decadence their wealth afforded them like ‘those Orlesian hypocrites’ as he liked to call them. Instead, the estate they lived in, while expansive, was more like a military fortress than anything. As their carriage rumbled through the gate, Hadiza remembered sighing as she looked out of the window, the sky dreary and gray, the creak of wood and iron cutting through the soft whisper of rain as the guards closed the gate behind them.

“Edward,” Her mother said softly, in that gentle inflection that was as much affection as it was passive-aggressive, “Isn’t it time we begin their formal instruction? Just in case?” Their mother was a slight, dark woman, but tall and statuesque, with a swan neck and a profile that rivaled that of any royal-blooded queen in a palace. She was from a lesser noble house, and her match with Edward had been one of both convenience and love. Hadiza knew their father doted on their mother, though he made sure none saw it. Still, at the sound of her voice her father looked up, brows furrowed as he tried to recall what she was referring to.

Aja was picking at the stiff lace collar of her dress, grunting in frustration as the Antivan stitching refused to give way and allow her the comfort of not itching. Hadiza giggled and Aja shoved her slightly.

“Girls!” Their mother admonished and both of them instantly cowered, though Hadiza reached over with one hand, concealed by the bunched fabric of her dress, and pinched her sister in the hip.

“Ow!” Aja cried and Hadiza was the face of innocence. Their mother sighed in exasperation.

“They’d be better suited to it, by my guess,” Edward laughed, affording his daughters a smile that said he knew what they were about. The carriage rumbled to a halt on the cobblestones and a footman was there instantly, opening the door to allow Lady Trevelyan and her daughters out, balancing an umbrella in the other hand. The footman was dressed in Trevelyan livery, the family crest embroidered into the right breast: the majestic profile of a Friesian horse set against a greyish-green field. Hadiza had always liked their family crest. As the family made their way inside the estate, Hadiza thought she heard someone whispering her name.

“What is it?” She asked Aja who met her gaze with wide eyes and raised brows.

“I didn’t say anything,” She said indignantly, raising her chin a little. Aja wasn’t a skilled liar, and Hadiza frowned.

“Yes you did, you said my name.”

“No I didn’t.”

“You did so. Just now.”

“I didn’t say your stupid name!”

Lady Trevelyan whirled on them.

“Girls!” She snapped and they quieted. Their mother eyed the two of them carefully as they entered the vestibule of the estate.

“Go upstairs and get changed. It won’t be long before Maggie has supper ready. And no more antics and foul language from either of you or you’ll not see any desserts for the remainder of the week, understand?”

“Yes, mother.” The girls said sullenly, glaring at their fine silk shoes. As they made their way upstairs Hadiza heard the whisper again.

“Stop it,” She whined to Aja who shrugged.

“I keep telling you I didn’t say anything.”

Hadiza’s mouth twisted into a scowl but she said nothing and they made their way to their rooms in the east wing. Hadiza’s room might have been large for a mere girl of six, but it was hers. Here, she could enjoy the quiet that wasn’t forced on her in the Chantry or at the table during meals. Here her thoughts could focus on what she wanted and not the Chant of Light or some other boring catechism from Andraste. There was a soft knock at the door and Hadiza shuffled over to open it. It was one of the servants, an elven girl named Belinda. She was a skittish young girl, even around the young Trevelyan sisters, but Hadiza thought she was nice and very pretty. She opened the door a little wider to let Belinda in.

“My apologies, young mistress,” The girl said and Hadiza wrinkled her nose.

“Belinda please don’t call me that. You can do it in front of mother and father, but you’re fine here. My name is Hadiza.” The elf smiled at her as the door shut.

“I know, but one can never be too careful. Your parents would throw me out into the street for my lack of propriety.” Belinda set about the business of handling the fireplace, which needed to be prepped before the wood could be dumped and lit. Hadiza crossed her arms.

“But you’re my friend. I don’t know why they’d do that to you.” Hadiza remembered it…that look in Belinda’s eye. Something about it was pained, as if there was a wound that was not ready to be touched. At six, Hadiza did not understand. She would come to understand much later, however. As soon as it had appeared, it was gone and the fireplace was lit. The door creaked open and Lady Trevelyan swept into the room, graceful and slender as a reed.

“Hadiza, dear, are you not ready yet? Please, we mustn’t keep your father waiting. And I’ve wonderful news for you and Aja…where is Aja?” Lady Trevelyan’s eyes settled on Belinda, who was still in a bow. She gestured impatiently.

“Oh get up, girl, no need for that nonsense here. Do inform Aja to come here immediately when you’ve tended to her room, will you?”

“Yes, mistress.” Belinda said demurely and was out of the room, as silent as a shadow. Lady Trevelyan turned about, surveying the room, smiling as she saw the large wooden chest in the corner. It contained Hadiza’s toys of course, but she rarely played with them. Hadiza frowned.

“I thought supper wasn’t until later, mother.” She complained. Lady Trevelyan made a clucking noise with her tongue just as Aja came into the room, looking petulant as only she could. Her thick black curls were pulled into two pigtails, lending even more childishness to her expression. Hadiza kept her own hair in two braids. Lady Trevelyan’s demeanor melted into a warm smile.

“Oh it is, but I wanted to prepare the two of you. Your father’s fair bursting with excitement for all he tries not to show it. Now, remember how we said that one day the two of you would be able to choose to serve?”

Hadiza’s eyes grew large with delight but Aja looked suspicious.

“We’re not going to become Chantry sisters are we?” Aja whined. “Their robes are heavy and they itch.” To emphasize her point, she scratched at her neck absently where her stiff lace collar had irritated the skin. Lady Trevelyan gently swatted Aja’s hands away.

“Don’t do that, love, you’ll ruin your skin. And no, you’re not going to become Chantry sisters, but you will serve the Chantry all the same.” Hadiza’s smile was wide.

“You mean…?” She asked, not trusting her voice. Lady Trevelyan’s smile was answer enough and Hadiza let out a shrill shriek that pierced the air as she ran about her room.

“Oh Maker! It’ll be just like in my storybooks! Aja, we’re going to be Templars!”


	2. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hadiza discovers something terrifying, altering the course of her life forevermore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic won't be long, as it is an origin story. However, I felt this story sitting on me ever since I created Hadiza and began breathing life into her that wasn't in the gameplay. I wanted there to be more to her than just "Herald" and then "Inquisitor." When the characters ask about her, I wanted there to be more to tell them than what the game gave me, because it has been a long time since a character has spoken to me like she has.

            The first time she dreamed of the Fade, Hadiza said nothing. She was seven and she and her sister were training in earnest under their father’s watchful eye. She’d heard stories about mages, about how they were not normal people, but people with an affliction. It was the Templars’ job to keep that affliction confined to the Circle, her father always said.

            Soon, it would be her job. She was going to be a Templar.

            Hadiza wandered into the Fade by chance—but not truly. It was to be her alternate reality for the rest of her life. She walked among the sickly green environment, tentative. She had no preparation for such a journey, and knew not what to expect. She had heard tales of demons and abominations, but nothing more than that. Not even a description.

            But she knew it was the Fade, all the same. It could be naught else.

            The first demon she met was a Sloth demon. It slumbered in a path she walked, seemingly unbothered by her presence. Hadiza was not sure if she was to be frightened of if she could simply bypass it.

            “Excu…” She began but then cleared her throat. The Sloth demon slumbered on, oblivious and uncaring.

            “Excuse me!” She said loudly then covered her mouth as her voice seemed to echo all around the sickly green world. A pair of red eyes opened slowly, drowsily, blinking as they settled on her. The Sloth demon yawned, the spines along its hide flexing as it stretched. It did not even bother to lift its head.

            “What…do…you…want…?” It asked her in a rumbling, drowsy voice. Hadiza blinked. Whatever else she expected, it had not been a demon asking her why she woke it up. She bit her lip.

            “I’m trying to find my way out of here and I seem to have gotten lost. I thought mayhap you could help?” The red eyes never blinked, and Hadiza felt herself becoming unnerved as they watched her. There was something ancient behind that deceptively sleepy stare. Something ancient and sinister and she began to feel as if she were prey and it the predator.

            Had it not already been so?

            “You are…a mage…are…you not…?” It asked almost sardonically. If not for the slow and slurred words, Hadiza could swear it was mocking her. She scuffed the ground with her foot idly, gnawing her lower lip.

            “I…I don’t know, really.” This time the demon blinked at her, slow and deliberate, lifting its bear-like head to get a better look at the girl. Hadiza tried not to flinch or flee in terror.

            “You…are…not…sure…and yet…” It yawned again, “…here…you are.” Hadiza tugged at her braids. This demon was saying nothing. The more it talked the less she knew and all she wanted was an exit.

            “Okay, so I might be?” She offered and the demon didn’t move, didn’t blink, it just stared.

            “If you…are…no mage…then how…are…you here…?”

            Hadiza let out an exasperated groan but she couldn’t turn away from the demon and look elsewhere. What if it followed her? She became increasingly panicked, feeling trapped in this pointless conversation for fear of her life.

            But as soon as she looked it seemed the demon had lost interest and was asleep again. Hadiza sighed with relief and turned to go back the way she came.

            When she woke up, she had confirmation of her fear.

            Her room was a mess, perhaps not so much scattered as it was frozen over. A trail of thick ice led from her bed into the fire place, effectively extinguishing the fire and freezing it over. Frost had crackled along the windows and the door, and there was no way this was possible because it was high summer and the mosquitoes were buzzing and the docks were sweltering and there were delicious exotic fruits in season in the other lands that they had during breakfast…

            A knock at the door.

            Belinda was here to clean out he fire place.

            Hadiza scrambled out of bed, slipping on the ice on her floor as she slid over to the door to keep Belinda from opening it.

            “Belinda, please!” She shouted. Belinda’s voice was muffled on the other side of the door.

            “Young mistress? Is everything alright?” She asked. Hadiza looked around at the ice that had taken over her room.

            “Can you go and fetch my mother, please? My mother and no one else. Please! Immediately.” There was silence on the other side of the door, and Hadiza feared Belinda would bypass her order and come in and then the secret would be out. Hadiza knew her father’s views on mages—he was good friends with Knight Commander Fredrick severe old Templar with a missing eye, and a permanent frown. Even the sight of her and her sister hadn’t been enough to make the old veteran crack a smile. He’d simply afforded them the courtesies due to their station and moved on to whatever business he’d had with their father. Even their mother’s charm was lost on him.

            And if her secret was discovered, she feared that any tolerance he bore for her presence would dissipate. She’d be one of _them_ …a mage.

            A soft knock, again.

            “Hadiza, dear? Is everything alright? Maker’s Breath, why is your door so ice cold?” Hadiza opened the door a crack.

            “Mother could you come in, please? And promise not to be angry?” Lady Trevelyan—Evangeline, her name was—raised her perfectly arched brows. Instantly, her motherly instincts came to pass and she nodded.

            “Alright dear, but you’re being awfully melodramatic this morning.”

            When Evangeline stepped inside Hadiza’s room, she went ashen with fear.

            “Maker!” She gasped. There, in the amidst the ice that covered the room, Hadiza stood, tears in her eyes, shame burning on her dark brown face. Evangeline glanced about and at once understood.

            “Maker…” She said, gentle and heartbroken this time. She swept toward her daughter, mindful of the icy floor, and took her into her arms.

            “Oh my darling,” She whispered into Hadiza’s hair, “Oh I’m so sorry, my darling.” And Hadiza broke down and wept into her mother’s shoulder, clinging to the woman. The apology didn’t help, for it drove home the point that Hadiza knew she would be sent away forever and possibly never see her family again. Evangeline held Hadiza away, searching her daughter’s tear-stained face.

            “Did you dream, my darling? Did you have the dream?” Her mother knew more than she let on, and Hadiza had a bit of hope. She nodded wordlessly. Evangeline pressed her delicate hand to her own mouth and shut her eyes. She didn’t open them, not for what seemed like too long. For a while there was only silence, the sniffling from Hadiza, and the distant drip-drop of the ice already beginning to melt where the sunlight shafted into her room through the high windows.

            Evangeline opened her eyes.

            “Belinda!” She nearly bellowed. The elven servant rushed into the room and it was clear she’d been waiting by the door. Seeing Hadiza’s tearful expression and the ice around the room she quickly looked down, bowing.

            “Yes mistress?” She responded demurely but with alacrity. Evangeline stood up, her gaze sweeping the room.

            “Chip the ice in the fireplace. When it’s done, I need you to stoke the fire in there and keep it burning until this room has thawed.

            “Yes, mistress. And what of the…dampness?”

            “We’ll fix that problem when we get to it, Belinda. For now, do as I ask, and speak of this to absolutely no one, understood?”

            Hadiza did not miss Belinda’s little smile.

            “Yes, mistress.”

            Evangeline turned and looked down at her daughter.

            “You and Aja will share a room until further notice. Your father doesn’t visit up here as often so there’s no worry of him asking questions. But…you are to speak of what happened to no one, alright, my heart?”

            Hadiza nodded, wide-eyed with disbelief. Her mother, who had been the darling of the Chantry mothers, embodying the utmost paragon of piety, loyalty, and fidelity to her husband and his House, would defy all of that for her daughter.

            “What about Aja?” Hadiza asked. “What if I can’t control it and I hurt her?” Evangeline seemed pensive, and Hadiza couldn’t remember when she’d ever seen her mother with a crease in her brow before. She may have been a Marcher, but she kept the beauty habits of an Orlesian.

            “I suppose I cannot risk you hurting her and then…no. We will move you to another suite of rooms. I’ll…I’ll see to your father. Belinda can be trusted if she values her life and her job.” Evangeline paced, the voluminous folds of her skirts swishing audibly as she left the room, Hadiza in tow. She went down the hall, where Aja’s room was. Aja’s room was admittedly smaller, but still large for her age. Evangeline was brought up short when she found Aja whacking heartily at a wooden practice mannequin with her wooden practice sword in nothing but her smallclothes. Her curls were askew, wild and unbound, and she looked fearsome for such a wispy six year old girl.

            “Aja,” Evangeline said and Aja paused in her combat to look at her mother and Hadiza, the fearsome expression on her face melting away to something like open expectancy. Evangeline’s eyes narrowed and Aja sighed, going to retrieve the velvet gown she’d discarded, itchy collar and all. Once dressed, she frowned.

            “Your sister will be staying here. We’re planning to move her to the suite of rooms further down the hall.”

            “How come?” Aja asked, wrinkling her nose. She shot a questioning look to her older sister, and was alarmed by the fear and apprehension there. Aja was quiet for a time, and thought perhaps it would be best to ask later, out of earshot of adults.

            “Nevermind that, Aja. You two get ready for breakfast,” Evangeline Trevelyan left Hadiza’s side to make her way out of the door. She turned to look at her daughters, already tall for their age, and young and vigorous from their first year of training. They would make splendid Templars, both of them.

            “We’ve much to discuss today.” She said softly, casting a sympathetic gaze to Hadiza before she left the room. Hadiza looked down, wringing her hands. As soon as Aja’s door closed fully, and their mother’s footsteps were out of range, Aja whirled.

            “Okay, so what is it? Why are you getting a new room? What’s wrong with the one you have now?” She demanded. Hadiza was always getting new things first, but it was not soon that Aja soon had new things of her own. Lord Trevelyan rewarded his daughters as equally as he could, but being the eldest, Hadiza usually got first pick.

            “I don’t want to talk about it.” Hadiza mumbled. Aja drew back, and then frowned. Hadiza wasn’t one to keep secrets and the fact that she was choosing to do so now after all the hullaballoo this morning was not adding to the list of reasons why she was justified. To Aja it was as good as treason.

            “Well then, I’ll just have to ask Belinda won’t I? I bet you told _her_.” Aja made a break for the door and Hadiza ran after her, panicked.

            “Aja, no!” She shouted, reaching to try and grab at one of the trailing lengths of her sash. It happened all at once: Aja reached the door and was about to pull it open, and then there was a sound like a sudden snowstorm kicking up, Hadiza’s hand was bathed in blue, crystalline light, which suddenly shot out and hit the door handle. Aja let out a yelp of surprise and pain, jumping back as the door handle completely froze over under a thick coating of ice. Aja fell back on her bottom, staring at the door wide eyed and then at Hadiza who was staring at her summarily normal hand as if it were covered in blood. Aja checked her own hand to make sure she wasn’t hurt.

            “Andraste’s Crown,” Aja swore, “You’re a bloody mage!” Had their mother been there she would have chastised Aja something fierce and demanded where she learned such foul language but Aja didn’t care—nor did Hadiza. Hadiza fought tears.

            “Please, Aja, mother said not to tell anyone. You know what’ll happen if father finds out. Mother doesn’t want me sent to the Circle. Do you know what they do to mages over there?” She was panicking again, and Aja stared, uncertain, as her sister’s hands began to glow again.

            “Stop that!” Aja cried and Hadiza looked at her hands in horror. They stopped glowing. Aja came over to her sister, held her shoulders, and then hugged her.

            “If you go to the Circle there will be no one here to play with me, ‘Diza.” Aja whispered and there was a warbling note in her voice. She drew back.

            “I won’t say anything. Besides, think of all the stuff you can do. How…you have to learn to control it. I hear mages can…get…what’s the word…oh rats. Anyway, come on. Breakfast is waiting and it’s going to be so funny knowing something father doesn’t!”

            Hadiza wasn’t so sure about the fun part, but she was very, very hungry.


	3. Honor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hadiza's life continues apace, and her powers grow, as do her fighting skills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As is my wont, I am asking that if you read, please feel free to comment, leave kudos, leave some kind of mark that this story was not simply skimmed over because it lacks some sort of ship. Writers are artists in their own right, and like any artist we crave to put our art forth for consumption by the masses, but nothing sucks the winds out of our sails like the thought that our work has passed unnoticed. But we thrive on praise, constructive criticism, and encouragement. So again: read and comment if you like.

            The seasons came and went, and Hadiza felt her power grow…saw it grow. Her mother had successfully kept a tight lid on her secret and as time went on, and the girls’ training intensified, she relaxed enough to even enjoy Hadiza’s gifts. Unlike their father, who was a stringently pious man, Evangeline understood that mages were people like anyone else, only they carried the gifts the Maker gave them. And so, using her social connections and other means, she began to have tomes smuggled to the estate for Hadiza’s benefit. It was risky, letting the girl study independently and Eva wished there was some way to get her tutoring without sending her away to be locked in the Circle, never to see her again.

            But she knew Edward would have none of that, and this was an avenue with which she was unfamiliar. She would not dare bring another mage in to tutor her, Circle or Apostate, as it would tip their hand, and so she made careful inquiries outside of Ostwick, getting tomes that would hopefully guide her daughter in a direction in which she would be able to control her magic. Over time, Hadiza learned that her emotions directly tied into her powers. She also noted that her powers became weaker unless she boosted them with lyrium. As it stood, she did not _need_ lyrium to make magic, as it was innately within her, but she would have been better with it at hand.

            Ice had been mastered fairly quickly, and while she and her sister trained as agile and strong warriors in the side courtyard by day, Hadiza sat in her sequestered suite of rooms and practiced her magic by night. Aja would watch as Hadiza devoured the tomes and scrolls her mother had sent her, and always, when she was done, she would lock them away in her old toy chest, hidden from sight. She had mastered ice, and had begun the rudiments of lightning and fire spells. She created both naturally from her hand, but they were raw, paltry spark and flashes of flame that did not damage. She wanted to be able to draw it out fully. Aja warned her to be careful.

            In her dreams, Hadiza walked the Fade…and perhaps the creatures she met there should have been credited with much of her earlier education for while she could not study in the Circle, there were spirits in the endless expanse that were not all malevolent. Some were actually inherently good, such as a spirit of wisdom and compassion. It took the form of a Friesian, much to her delight, and she climbed its back as it walked her through the Fade, talking to her.

            “Do you ever feel lonely?” She asked Wisdom once as she sat under an outcropping of rocks, weaving fire between her fingers in various shapes. It was an exercise the spirit had taught her, and she practiced it. It helped her focus on the details of her spellcasting, and increased her dexterity for faster and more precise casting of dangerous spells.

            “Yes…but it is not as you feel it. So few of your kind walk the Fade with anything but fear and apprehension in your hearts. Perhaps it is your Chantry that is to blame for teaching you to fear what is an inherent part of existence itself.” Wisdom bowed its head, and peered at Hadiza with one big, long-lashed eye.

            “You come here because you wish to learn,” It continued, “And in exchange, you offer the pleasure of your company. Your innocence is refreshing. So many mages that come here are already corrupt with their ambitions toward power. They seek to chain and tame us…you merely wish to learn.”

            “I just want to be able to control it,” Hadiza said, “I don’t want to be a super powerful mage or anything. They’ll send me to the Circle and I’ll never see my family again. And…and I heard what they do to mages they don’t like there. It’s awful.”

            The Trevelyans were in good standing with both the Chantry and the Templars, and many in their House had served both with the utmost honor and devotion as was expected. Those that bore the stamp of the mage were sent to the Circle straight away, although it was rare. Hadiza would be the first in quite some time. Wisdom let out a nickering sound, almost dismissive.

            “They abuse mages because they fear them, and when their fear outpaces their wisdom, they severe you from this place…from yourself.”

            “What?!” Hadiza cried, drawing back. Wisdom made a rumbling noise in warning. Hadiza had learned to control her outbursts and fear as well, as she had seen what it could draw in this place.

            “Do not be frightened. So long as you do not give yourself over to their foolishness, you’ll not fall prey to them.” Hadiza calmed, but not all the way. There was still the fear.

            Thus, she continued to learn. In the waking world, it was a careful thing, to be able to balance the tightrope that had become her life. She had to take great pains to ensure no one ever suspected her status as a mage, while maintaining a relationship with her father that felt somewhat honest.

            But Maker, it was painful! To listen to him go on about how one day she’d be a Templar and command Knights of her own, and to hear the unmistakable _pride_ in his voice when he spoke of it.

            She was only ten, and already the weight was on her shoulders. She would be expected to inherit, of course, so she would have both the status of House Trevelyan and her status as a Templar.

            It sickened Hadiza to know that neither of these things could be hers. Not because she wanted them, but because her father would be devastated to learn that his eldest girl was…was something he hated so deeply.

            There were events, of course, social gatherings which Aja and Hadiza were still too young to attend in full, but the day would come when their mother would make their formal debut into society as young ladies eligible for marriage. Hadiza found it all dreadfully boring and found herself wishing to go to bed, oddly enough. The Fade had become a place of comfort to her, and she’d made friends with the spirits there. So far, she had only run into one demon in her time there, and as long as she adhered to Wisdom’s teachings, she did not attract the attentions of the others that lurked in the limitless expanse of the Fade.

            On other days, the training was hard. Edward loved to watch his daughters in combat practice, noting their strengths, weaknesses, and areas of improvement. He stood like a proud general, back erect as a man twice his junior, with Lady Trevelyan at his side, smiling indulgently as the sisters sparred.

            “Aja is becoming aggressively proficient with that shield arm,” Edward mused thoughtfully, “When she’s older and fully grown, I wager she’ll be an unbreakable wall with it by then. She’ll be a fierce Templar if nothing else.”

            “Edward, my darling, they are but children, not soldiers. Allow them that, at least.” Evangeline said with a grin, patting his arm. Edward grunted in reply.

            “Indeed. They chose the Order over becoming ascetic Chantry sisters. I do not know whether to be alarmed or proud. But…Hadiza…” Evangeline felt her pulse trip. Everyday Hadiza grew stronger not only in body, but in mind. Her magic had come to encompass many categories and more than once had she almost been discovered. Servants gossip, and as far as she knew Belinda had kept her word and not breathed Hadiza’s secret to a soul. But Edward was no fool, and Knight Commander Fredrick even less so.

            “Hadiza wields a blade in either hand like extensions of her arms. See there? What she just did? Baiting tactic. She’s setting Aja up to drop her shield out of exhaustion. Hadiza’s treating it as a dance,” Edward was gesturing to the combat where the two, willowy fighters clashed, an endless dance of engaging, disengaging, ripostes, shield bashes…Evangeline found herself following the fight by the gestures her husband made.

            “Hadiza will need to strengthen her shield arm if she’s to be a Templar. She’s fighting like a common rogue right now. I doubt the Order will have room for her creative—ah! See there! The finish!” Evangeline’s eyes looked sharply to the center of the ring. Aja was panting, sweat shining on her brow, but her shield arm was quivering. Hadiza had not been trying to win so much as she was wearing Aja down.

            She slipped the shield off her arm, relying on her vambraces to block attacks. And that was her mistake. Hadiza still had plenty of energy to spare and whirled in like a tempest, offering no reprieve from either of her sword. Aja was forced on the defensive, gradually being pushed backward as she blocked, parried, and dodged Hadiza’s endless attacks. Hadiza and Aja had trained under various fighting tutors since their tutelage began, and even though neither had been able to confirm the truth from him, one of their tutors, an old Antivan by the name of Ricardo, was likely a retired Antivan Crow. It was he who had tutored them in the art of dual-wielding, and while Aja had been frustrated with it, Hadiza had taken to it like a fish to water.

            It came as naturally as breathing. It felt right. It felt balanced.

            And now she was winning.

            Aja lost her footing, falling backward and Hadiza came forward, the end of a blade poised at both her sister’s throat and belly.

            Aja scowled contemptuously.

            “I yield.” She spat, though it held none of the venom it should have as they were still children.

            Lady Trevelyan sighed, thankful it was over at least. Belinda joined them in the courtyard carrying a tray laden with a polished silver tea set, and a platter of what looked to be sweet pastries.

            “Oh good, right on time,” Evangeline said softly and Belinda smiled as she curtsied, setting the tea tray on the table in the gazebo. It was a sunny day, though the constant cloud cover from the sea watered down the sun itself, and it was still sweltering. The sisters joined their parents in the gazebo, covered in sweat and dust, their weapons discarded on the training ground.

            “Did you see us, father?” Hadiza asked, still giddy from the adrenaline of combat, her silver eyes bright with the light only warriors knew. Her sister, although sullen over her loss, bore the same mien, sulking behind her.

            “I did indeed, dearest. You’ve a wicked mind for strategy. You’ll be running those Knights ragged soon enough!” Heedless of the dust in her leathers he scooped her up into his arms and planted a loving kiss on her forehead. Setting her down he welcomed Aja, he still sulked.

            “And you…if half the Knights in Ostwick could fight with a shield and sword with the same ferocity as you, little dove? Ah they’d be an army unto themselves! I could ask for no finer warriors, indeed.” Edward was clearly proud and for once, it seemed as if all were well in the Trevelyan household. Hadiza was a warrior in her father’s eyes, and in a few years she would be ready to be sworn into the Order as a recruit. Aja seemed less enthused, however, her gaze far off and distant. Evangeline placed a gentle hand on her daughter’s arm and Aja peered up at her mother, meeting a matching pair of silver eyes…it was a trait that ran in their mother’s line: silver eyes in dark faces. There was rumor that Rivaini blood ran in their mother’s noble house and she did nothing to neither refute nor claim them.

            “Don’t worry dear. With luck, you and your sister will always fight as a team. This is only practice, and we can’t very well having it said by the other nobles that our girls are running their would-be warrior sons ragged in the ring, now can we? They’d never match their sons to either of you knowing such a thing.”

            Aja sulked harder.

            “So? I don’t want to marry any boys. I like fighting and if the boys don’t want to fight then find girls who will.”

            That took her mother aback a bit, and the conversation ended abruptly. Luckily, the awkward moment did not last for long for Knight Commander Fredrick had come to pay a visit to Lord Trevelyan. Edward waved him over, still grinning like a fool, beaming with pride.

            “Knight Commander,” Evangeline said with enviable graciousness, “You do us an honor. To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?” The Knight Commander was old, possibly older than Edward, with a head of iron-gray hair, and the look of a hawk about him. One of his eyes was scarred shut, and there were lines and wrinkles in his face that spoke of a man that had seen war…or somewhat worse. His armor gleamed in the afternoon sunlight and he looked like a warrior out of legend. Once, Hadiza had looked upon the man with admiration for she someday hoped to join his ranks.

            Now, she was terrified. She hoped no one saw how she trembled like a leaf when his one green eye settled on her. Could he sense it? Was the stink of magic upon her like bloodscent to the wolf? Maker’s Breath what if he called her out right then and there? It would shame her family for they’d be accused of harboring an apostate for refusing to turn her in as soon as she came into her powers. Maker why did he look at her so?

            “Hadiza?” Aja queried. Hadiza blinked, meeting her sister’s gaze. The Knight Commander was no longer looking at her but conversing with her parents.

            “I’m fine.” She said but Aja knew it for a lie. This farce was going to end one way or another, but how long before the seasoned Templar caught onto her secret? She was careful, so careful…

            “Commander I was just talking about how these two could give your boys a run for their money,” Edward laughed. The Knight Commander’s bushy brows rose in mild interest as he surveyed both of the slender girls clad in leather armor. They had graduated from wooden swords to true steel long ago.

            “That so, Lord Trevelyan?” He queried and there was mild amusement in his voice. “So you two wish to swear yourselves to the Order, do you?”

            Hadiza nodded vigorously. “Yes, ser!” She said, a bit too loudly. Aja only smiled wryly. She had no interest in the Order, or the Chantry. Both groups bored her it seemed like, but she would go where her sister went.

            Except to where her sister was supposed to be.

            “I see. Do you know aught of what that entails, young lady? For once sworn into the Order, there is no turning back. ‘Tis not a casual romp in a fairy tale tome, it is a sacred honor and duty, one that requires more than youthful enthusiasm.” The whole time Hadiza felt as if he were searching, his eye roving her face like a hawk seeking the field mouse. She schooled herself to calm, willing her heart to slow its fever cadence in her chest.

            “They are well-versed in the Chant, Ser,” Evangeline stepped in, sensing Hadiza’s fear, “And they’ve already wrangled several martial skills. We began the rudiments of their combat training at a tender age. In a few years, they’ll be fit to serve under your command as raw recruits. I’m sure they’ll bring nothing but honor to the Order.”

            Hadiza sighed with relief, but the fear had not gone. She wondered if she or Aja had inherited their mother’s skill at dissembling because that was one skill magic could never give her.


	4. Infidelity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hadiza worries that one day the Knight Commander will catch on that she is in fact a mage. But there are other things on the Knight Commander's mind, it seems.

            The time came when Edward’s business took him out of Ostwick. He was to travel to Ferelden for two weeks’ time. Aja and Hadiza by this time were thirteen and fourteen years old, and already had the stature of trained soldiers. They had settled into their weapons of choice beautifully and Hadiza had gained mastery over three elements drawing from the limitless power of the Fade to augment her martial skills. It made the combat between herself and Aja that much more interesting. Indeed, Evangeline found it advantageous in that Aja could sharpen her martial skills should the worst come to pass and she ever found herself combatting a mage. It was dangerous, but she trusted her daughters who had learned to fight in tandem, weaving the skills of a rogue and the skills of a shield-warrior into an intricate dance. They fought so well that Eva swore they could predict one another’s movements.

            Of course, by now, the families of Ostwick knew the sisters had chosen the path of the Templar, and while some of the more provincial nobles scoffed at the idea of women becoming apart of the Order, none dared to gainsay it. It was not, however, without its challenges.

            For one, the girls had yet to make their debut to society and become biddable for marriage. Evangeline fretted with tailors and clothiers over what the two girls would wear. They were clearly tall for their age, towering over most of the boys, and their years of combat training had seen them develop strong, solid musculature that belied none of the grace.

            “Why can’t we wear our swords?” Hadiza asked one day as she stood on a stool to be measured and fitted for her debut gown. Belinda stood off to the side, her arms filled with various bolts of fabric.

            “Because it’s a debut not a tourney, now hold still…” Evangeline said impatiently. With Edward gone away on business, she had become a little more focused on the future of her daughters, but still maintained the obvious relationship with the Chantry. Knight Commander Fredrick still visited on occasion, mostly to observe the girls and their martial improvement. He begrudgingly admitted that they were skilled, but he needed soldiers as well as warriors, and their stylistic acrobatics and dancing about was not going to cut it once they took vows. Evangeline bore the criticism with exemplary grace, smiling and thanking him before he had gone on his way.

            “It’s not dancing,” Hadiza grumbled later, as Belinda helped her wash her hair, “Master Ricardo called it the Patterns of Death and if that stuffy old Templar took us in the ring he’d understand that.” She shut her eyes as Belinda tilted her head back into the marble basin and scrubbed her hair.

            “Yes, and just how close do you think he’d get before he discovered your secret?” Belinda asked and Hadiza huffed. She missed Master Ricardo; he had a cunning glint in his eye and a wicked wit. He had also been absolutely merciless in his tutelage. He was Antivan, and fencing was a sport as well as an art there, but his blades had been turned to more sinister purposes in his lifetime. Where her parents had found the old Crow, she’d never guess, but his training had stuck with her all these years and had served her well in combat practice. Her footwork afforded her a supreme advantage in that she was never where her opponent’s sword chose to strike.

            Dancing? Bah! What was combat if not a dance on the field? What did that stupid Knight Commander know, anyway?

            Still, Belinda was right. She could no less afford to challenge the aging Templar to a bout without risking revealing her secret. It was evident in the way she smelled.

            “Like a thunderstorm rolling over the sea. Like lightning in the forest.” Aja had told her one evening as they lay in bed, talking late into the night.

            “I really smell like that?” Hadiza asked, her nose wrinkling. Aja smiled.

            “Yes. And if Fredrick finds out he’s going to haul you to the Circle in chains. Mother and father will be so disgraced they’ll never leave the estate.” Aja seemed all too amused by this scenario and Hadiza frowned.

            “And what will you do?” She asked tentatively, almost suspiciously. Aja shrugged.

            “I suppose I could always try and rescue you, but then we’d be on the run from Templars all our lives. So maybe I’ll leave the Free Marches, go to Ferelden…become a Grey Warden.” At this, Hadiza drew back with a gasp.

            “You wouldn’t! You know what they say about the Wardens! And why would you give up your life here to prance about with those Dog Lords?” Aja frowned, propping her head up as she sat up on one elbow. In the dark, the moon was too bright, casting beams of silvery light through the high windows, limning them both and bringing out the telltale silver of their eyes. _Money eyes_ , the locals called them…a sign that they would always have wealth and fortune in their lives.

            Would that it could remain thus.

            “Anything could happen, Diza. Mother’s been going to great lengths to ensure you aren’t found out by the Templars, but one day the Templars will come for us…either for us to be sworn to the Order…or to be clapped in chains.” Aja looked somewhat sad and Hadiza picked at the embroidery on one of the silk pillows. They were silent a moment longer and Hadiza felt the first tug of sleep at the corners of her mind. She knew then that it was time to return to her own room. She had not had an incident since she first walked the Fade and yet she and her mother had agreed she needed a separate room on the off chance the worst did happen. Even though none would admit it, Hadiza often wondered if being sent to the Circle would really be so bad. Surely the Templars would allow her to see her family! Her father was friends with the Knight Commander for Andraste’s sake…he could make allowances to ensure that she was well taken care of. She had heard good things about Circle Mages in that they were at least well-kept.

            But giving herself to the Circle meant a life of being sequestered from her family and to a less hurtful extent, the world at large. She had lived her life in the sun, being able to run freely about the Trevelyan estate, training fervently for a position she knew she would never have based on what she was.

            Who had ever heard of a mage who became a Templar? Who would ever allow such an abomination within the ranks?

            Aja lay down and turned her back, stifling a yawn.

            “No sense in fretting about it all night, Diza. Maybe if we’re lucky mother will ship us off to some far away city to be in the Chantry or something. Then no one will ever know.”

            It was a lie, of course, but Hadiza went to her room trying to convince herself that it was a remote possibility. However, after lying awake for a solid thirty minutes, Hadiza found herself unable to sleep. Contrary to the weariness that had seeped into her earlier, she found herself wide-awake, staring at the high ceiling painted with a faded fresco of Andraste’s ultimate sacrifice, and unable to force sleep. The Fade would not have her tonight lest she did something about this issue. Climbing from her bed, she crept into the dimly-lit hallway, making her way toward the main vestibule. She wagered no one would be up at this time and all the servants had likely gone to bed. This would make it easier for her to sneak a midnight snack from the kitchens. Maggie often baked her pastries the night before to save time on breakfast preparations the following morning. Hadiza was certain no one would notice one missing flaky pastry. Just imagining the taste of the blackberry juices spilling from a warm, flaky crust had her mouth watering and galvanized her faster.

            It was when she passed her father’s study that she came up short. The door was ajar, which was not unusual, but there was the flickering golden glow of candlelight coming from within. Hadiza’s brow furrowed. Mother did not venture into father’s study unless he was there, and he was currently in Amaranthine on business. So it was odd. Perhaps it was the servants. Hadiza had heard the gossip. Sometimes the servants would sneak off to one of the quieter parts of the manor to have what was considered ‘adult’ time. Hadiza had no idea what that entailed and she was about to push open the door to the study when she heard the distinct sound of a woman’s breathless laughter, low and delighted. Hadiza knelt in the shadows against the wall and peered through the door’s opening. She could make out the figure of a woman sitting on her father’s desk. Long hair disheveled and head tipped back. The candlelight limned the woman’s skin in a chiaroscuro of light and dark, juxtaposing smooth, dark skin with what was clearly a torn white bodice. There was a wet sucking sound coming from beneath the desk.

            Hadiza clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp as Knight Commander Frederick rose from his knees from between her mother’s spread legs. It was mayhap the only time she saw him smiling, and it was terrifying, languorous and crooked as he licked his lips. She was rooted to the spot as her mother sighed dreamily and _happily_ , her arms coming to loop around the Templar’s neck as she leaned up to kiss him.

            Hadiza didn’t stay to see the rest. She fled, scurrying back up the stairs and down the hall to her room. Her heart hammered wildly in her chest, and she wondered hysterically if what she had seen had merely been a trick of the light. But she knew most if not all of the servants in the household by face and name, and none of them carried the rich, dark skin of her mother, and that laugh was well known. The Knight Commander was a man of severity and his face too was well known and distinctive.

            For what seemed like hours she sat on her bed, hugging her knees to her chest to process what she had seen. All these years her family had been held up as the shining paragon of what a devout Andrastian household should be. They attended the morning Chant everyday. They had told the Knight Commander they intended to pledge their daughters to the Order to serve the Chantry. They were devout in their faith, and did not Andraste preach fidelity to one’s spouse?

            How could mother betray father in such a way, and with a close friend no less? Hadiza ran her mind ragged with questions, and finally, when the first light began to illuminate the steely sky in her windows, she found herself exhausted and fell into a slumber that took her directly to the Fade. There she wandered, welcoming the eerie stillness and soundlessness of the place.

            There she convinced herself that when she returned to the waking world, all would be well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tropetastic. I love a good scandal. Hope you do too.


	5. Winter's Grasp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh my, oh my...

            “Oh how delightful! Do it again!” Evangeline clapped her hands with girlish delight as Hadiza wove the spell again. It was a modified version of the spell _winter’s grasp_ that involved creating a concentrated globe that contained a snowstorm. Hadiza would then toss it into the air and it would explode, showering everyone in the soft, gently drift of snowflakes. Winter was her mother’s favorite season, and Hadiza’s mastery over the primal spells of cold was a delight to her. Aja crossed her arms, blowing onto her hands to warm them, and let out a snort.

            “I don’t see why you’re always so impressed, mother. She’s been casting snow spells since she first discovered she was a mage. Speaking of which, aren’t we supposed to be taken off to the Order soon?” Hadiza did not miss Aja’s sneer when she asked that question, meeting her sister’s star-thieved gaze in alarm. She knew what that would entail and she could not fathom why Aja would keep bringing it up. Hadiza bit her lip, her gaze sliding away as she remembered that their mother was engaged in a torrid affair with the Knight Commander.

            And apparently no one else in Thedas knew it but her.

            Evangeline waved her hand.

            “The Knight Commander has already agreed to take the two of you on when he feels you are ready. Why in such a hurry to leave your mother, Aja dear? Have I failed to provide for you?” Evangeline put on a petulant tone that put one in the mind of a child and Aja rolled her eyes. She was still clad in her sparring leathers, her shield strapped comfortably to her back, her sword sheathed and hanging from her narrow, teenaged hips. As time progressed, she had begun assuming the appearance of a warrior more and more, had styled her long black hair into a single braid. It brought out the fine-sculpted angles and curves of her face, and played up the startling brightness of her eyes. Aja looked the part of a grim young warrior, eager to prove herself, but she was still impulsive in combat, unable to control her temper.

            Hadiza just had to remember to stop enchanting her weapons now that father had returned home. Indeed, with the chill of winter biting a little harder, the trio retreated inside. Evangeline seemed completely at ease in her step, as graceful and unbothered as ever, and Hadiza kept looking at her mother, watching for signs…of…what? She had no idea what she was looking for. Everything about that night so many weeks ago had seemed surreal, and since then she had not dared venture out of her room after everyone retired for the evening. The last thing she wanted was to find her mother in such a state ever again. Not out of embarrassment, but out of shame and bewilderment.

            “Ah, the loves of my life all assembled in one place.” Edward was equally at ease and he took his wife into his arms, embracing her with a chaste but fervent kiss to both of her cheeks. Evangeline smiled her charming smile and let out a laugh. Hadiza’s face burned as she recalled it was the same laugh she had heard the night she found her mother in the arms of the Knight Commander.

            “How goes your training? Has the cold slowed your young bones yet?” Edward asked with a laugh. “What am I saying? Of course not; the two of you flit about so much in combat it’s a wonder you don’t catch fire.” And he let out a loud laugh at his own wit. Aja and Hadiza smiled awkwardly, although Aja made a sound that said she was on the opposite end of amused.

            “How about we all sit down to tea, Edward darling?” Evangeline suggested graciously, “Mayhap we can discuss how you plan to convince the Knight Commander that our girls are beyond ready for the rigors of being a Templar.” Hadiza was truly amazed at her mother’s gall.

            Truly.

            How did they plan to convince Knight Commander Fredrick that they were ready to send their two daughters off to a life of contemplation and vigilance? Hadiza wagered it was due to her mother’s…other charms.

            Or mayhap she was wrong. Mayhap it was merely a one-night mistake, although her mother had not sound like she regretted anything.

            “Tea, darling? Ah, well…I could never deny you. We shall take tea in the salon, then.”

            “Ah ah ah,” Evangeline admonished, gesturing to the sisters, “Not until they’ve washed and dressed appropriately. Honestly, Edward, do you intend to let our girls stand about dressed like common mercenaries if guests come calling?” Edward smiled, surveying his too tall daughters, who watched him with equal curiosity. Hadiza was a tall and slender 14 year old, with young muscles developed on still growing bones, her hair pulled back at her nape, sporting two wicked short swords on her back. Her sister was nearly identical in height, with seemingly more dense, corded muscle in her arms, a sword hanging from her hip and a round shield on her back like some decorated turtle. Both bore the stamp of House Trevelyan in their faces, with their father’s austere and haughty features, their mother’s starlight eyes, and both parents’ rich, umber skin. He could not have been more proud even if they had been born sons.

            “Maker be praised for the two of you,” He said in a moment of reverence, “You will break many hearts in the Order with your mother’s beauty on your side. I pray you are not too hard on those unsuspecting boys in the Chantry. Remember where you come from.”

            “Oh Edward!” Evangeline cried. “You speak as if they would leave us this instant! Girls, go and hurry and change. I will scold your father for trying to break my heart.”

            And so Hadiza and Aja slinked off, moving with their now inherent fighter’s gait, light of foot, and dexterous. Hadiza found a bath already drawn up and steaming and she eagerly stripped off her weapons and armor to sink into the great bronze basin with a delicious sigh. There she sat, and wondered.

            Any day now the Knight Commander would come for them and there would be no turning back. She would take vows, be sworn into the Order, and from there she would spend the rest of her life pretending to be something she was not. She would hide her Fade-touched dreams; she would hide and silence her magic forever.

            Hadiza briefly imagined a life in which her magic was silenced and shuddered. She loved her gift, even if the Chantry saw her as an abomination…even if her father hated what he did not know his daughter was.

            Hadiza hugged her knees to herself in the steaming water, hiding her face and crying silently.

 

 

            Dinner was very silent that evening and Hadiza had to wonder why. Generally mother was very chatty and father indulged her with variations of a hum of acknowledgement and the occasional sentence when the conversation turned to something more his speed. Tonight, however, the dinner table seemed like a vast obstacle between all of them. Aja looked pensive, and Hadiza noticed as they aged and grew alongside one another that Aja looked increasingly uncomfortable in the stiff, velvet dresses she was forced to wear. It seemed every time she swallowed she reached up to tug irritably at the stiff lace collar at her neck, scratching and shoving it down to allow herself to breathe.

            “Aja, please, that’s very unladylike,” Evangeline scolded softly, taking small, delicate bites of her food from her fork. Aja gave her mother a withering look but then stared sullenly at her plate.

            “Hadiza has her elbows on the table,” She mumbled bitterly. Hadiza’s brows rose and she quickly adjusted, not realizing that her elbows had indeed been resting on the table. Evangeline shot Hadiza a warning glance.

            “Why must you always do that?” Hadiza demanded to Aja across the table. Aja was sipping her soup with a careful grace learned over years of etiquette lessons and admonishments from the stuffy Orlesian governess they’d had. She paused, setting her spoon down gently.

            “What ever do you mean, dear sister?” Aja asked with infuriating gentility. Hadiza wanted to tear her hair out.

            “That? Any time mother scolds you for something you do you always try and drag me down alongside you. Why?”

            “Hadiza, this is a dinner table not a seedy tavern. Keep your voice down.” Evangeline warned as she sipped her wine from a goblet. Hadiza cast a dark look at her mother, but said nothing.

            The dinner continued in silence save for the sound of cutlery and utensils scraping on fine porcelain dinnerware, all was quiet in the Trevelyan household. Edward broke the silence.

            “So, Aja, how goes your studies into the history of the Order? I see your shield arm is as strong and reliable as an ash tree. Be sure that your mind is as vigilant as the body it is housed in.”

            Aja made a play to roll her eyes but hid the gesture artfully behind a sip of her cider.

            “It’s dreadfully boring, father, but the studies go as well as they can, I suppose. I doubt when I’m—“ She shot a knowing look at Hadiza, “— _we_ are taken into the Order that we’ll be spending much time ruminating over the history so much as the Chant and how it relates to our duties as Templars.”

            Hadiza sulked, picking at the potatoes in her soup agitatedly. Evangeline looked up from her own food, brow creasing in consternation.

            “Hadiza, dear, don’t pick at it if you’re not going to eat it.” Edward looked up at his daughter, his face rife with genuine fatherly concern.

            “Hadiza, my heart, are you alright? You’ve been in quite the mood all evening and you’ve hardly said a word. Is something the matter?”

            Hadiza glared at Aja briefly across the table. Aja’s brows raised and she shrugged. Hadiza looked down at her plate again.

            “Father, how would you feel if someone betrayed you when you were in no position to deal with it?” Edward looked surprised. Even Aja paused in her smug miming to lean forward, curious.

            “Whatever do you mean, my dear? Is someone bothering you?” Hadiza looked up, glancing around the table.

            “I just wonder, is all. How much of the Chant do we actually adhere to? Andraste bid us be chaste in our love, and so we are. Andraste bid us to love one another and so we do. Andraste bid us be loyal to our family and so we are. But how much of that do we truly believe?”

            Hadiza glanced at her mother from beneath her lowered eyes. Her mother did not seem to catch onto what was being hinted at.

            “My dear this is hardly conversation fit for the dinner company,” Evangeline said, “Mayhap you shall do like all of Edward’s colleagues and friends do and retire to the study for cigars and port?” Her tone was so amused and humorous and Hadiza wanted to be sick.

            “Cut the act, mother!” She snapped and Aja’s brows shot up again. Edward frowned.

            “Hadiza that is no way to talk to your mother. Apologize this instant.”

            Hadiza pushed back in her chair and got up. On instinct, Edward also stood, as was decorum. Hadiza glared around the table.

            “This family is but a farce,” She said, “I will not apologize until mother offers the same to how she has spit in the face of all you’ve built, father.” Evangeline looked angry, now.

            “Hadiza what are you on about? You are throwing vague accusations about like a petulant child and I’ll not stand for it. Be seated or ask to be permitted to be excused but do not cause a scene here.”

            “You going to tell him or shall I, mother?” Hadiza demanded. Evangeline looked puzzled. Aja glanced between Hadiza and their mother, blinked.

            “I saw you that night, mother. You were with the Knight Commander. I saw you, half undressed and embracing him in father’s study!” Hadiza felt as if a great lodestone had been lifted as she finally blurted out the truth she had carried within her for weeks, now.

            A stunned silence was all that answered her. Aja looked surprised if not a bit impressed and sat back in her chair, stifling a shocked laugh. Hadiza blinked, her blood pumping in her ears, her hands trembling.

            “How dare you!” Evangeline snapped. “Go to your room! Your behavior this evening is deplorable and I’ll not sit here and be blamed for whatev—“

            “There is no need, Evangeline.” Edward said quietly. Evangeline’s eyes snapped to him.

            “Did you not hear the foulness that she just said? Edward, please. We have spoiled her enough. Perhaps we’ve been too lenient.”

            “Or perhaps _I_ have,” Edward countered and fixed her with a weighty stare. Evangeline drew back in shock, holding her hand over the collar of pearls above her neck. Hadiza was still trembling. She was distinctly aware of the sound of crackling on her soup bowl and realized belatedly that her powers had spiraled out of control and she was freezing her dinner. She drew her hands away quickly but it was too late. The silence was too heavy for the sound of her magic not to have reached her father’s ears.

            He stared at her and Hadiza saw none of the love that had been there previously…only disbelief and disappointment.

            “So it’s true…” He whispered. “Andraste preserve me I had hoped it mere rumor but it’s true.” He drew his hands across his face with a groan. Hadiza backed away from the table.

            “Father, please…” She began. Edward Trevelyan looked up and his eyes were hard.

            “Come no closer, mage.” He said harshly, his voice thick with a mixture of emotions and Hadiza gasped, coming up short. Edward stood abruptly.

            “Belinda!” He barked, and the elven servant scurried in from where she’d obviously been eavesdropping, bowing low.

            “Yes, milord?” She said, never once lifting her gaze. Edward drew himself up into a dignified posture.

            “This dinner is concluded. Have the servants clear the table.” He didn’t bother to hear her chirped reply of acquiescence and instead turned on his heel and left. Evangeline fixed Hadiza with a hard stare.

            “After all I have sacrificed and worked for to keep you safe,” She said, “This is how you repay me? Perhaps you are more of a mage than I thought.” She practically snarled and swept after her husband. That left only Aja, who was gnawing in a very unladylike fashion on a chicken bone as she rounded the table looking as pleased as a cat licking cream; Hadiza stared at her stonily.

            “Well, as far as family dinners go, that’s the best one yet, I’d say.” Aja laughed and Hadiza fled to her room.

 

 

            How had everything gone out of control so quickly?

            Hadiza paced her room like a caged animal and looked frantically about. Her father would not confront Knight Commander about the affair, no, not if he wanted to keep the Order close at hand for his own connections. Hadiza wracked her brain for answers. No, he would confront her mother on this, make it seem as if she were at fault.

            And what of her own plight?

            Hadiza let out a helpless sound of frustration as she fought back the lump of fear and hurt in her throat. He had called her not by her name, but by what she was. In an instant she had gone from his loving daughter to…to being reduced to merely the sum of what was only part of her.

            No, he would summon the Knight Commander to come and drag her off to the Circle. Only once he knew she was gone would he turn his wrath upon her mother. Hadiza paced faster until she was panting. This was it, this was how she would remember her family, all hostile looks and snarls, and a satisfied smile from an all-too-pleased sister.

            Hadiza would find no solace in the Fade this night and so she waited, the drafts of a plan already forming in her head. She watched the window as the sun sank below her line of sight. Without hesitation she went to her wardrobe and began to change. She had only begun to pull up her leather trousers and begin the process of putting on her armor when she heard chuckle.

            “Diza what in Andraste’s name are you doing?” Aja’s voice asked her. Hadiza’s hands hesitated briefly, resting on the worn, hardened leather of her breastplate, but then strengthened her resolve and began unbuckling it to slip into it easily. It settled on her body, snug to fit, like an old glove.

            “I’m not going to sit here and let my life be controlled, Aja.” Hadiza said seriously as she secured her pauldrons, then her baldric to secure her swords to her back. Aja had changed out of her dress and wore the soft buckskin breeches and silk shirt she usually wore in the evening. It infuriated mother to know her daughter was traipsing about in trousers like a common stable boy, but that was Aja: she loved to get under people’s skin.

            “Just where do you plan to go, Diza?” Aja demanded. “Thedas is huge and there’s more danger out there than in the Circle. Why can’t you just…accept it?”

            Hadiza whirled to face her sister, and steel eyes met steel as they glared at one another. Hadiza had known long that her sister had resented her for her mage abilities, but nor had she ever been one to do aught but thumb her nose at tradition. Edward Trevelyan was a staunch supporter of the Chantry and the Templar Order, and so long as his daughters remained on the path to serving one or the other, he was content to allow them some leniency. Now that Hadiza had been revealed as a mage, that leniency extended only to Aja.

            “Accept it? A life of cushioned imprisonment? Never being allowed outside, to see friends or family ever again? Under constant watch of the Templars that would kill me at any moment? What sort of life is that, Aja?”

            The other girl shrugged, turning up her hands in a gesture of helplessness.

            “It is better than running away from home and ending up Maker knows where,” Aja said, “There is no where you can go as a mage, Hadiza, and you know it. If the Templars in here cannot get you, then the Templars everywhere else will. Where will you go? Ferelden? Orlais? Nevarra? The Order’s reach and arm are far longer and stronger than father’s. At least…at least here you would still have the influence of the Trevelyan name.”

            Hadiza hesitated. Aja seized upon that hesitation, closing the gap between them to place her hands on her sister’s shoulders. There was concern there and in that moment Hadiza thought her sister’s compassion would override her resentment and envy.

            “Stay. Go to the Circle. You will be able to get some real training in your abilities, and there you won’t have to worry about hurting anyone. They’ll teach you to control your powers and master others. It is a good life. It is not the one you wanted, but it is a life better than being on the run.”

            Hadiza wanted to believe that. She truly did, but a life on the run would have been a life she chose. Being forced into the Circle and never being allowed out ever again was no life to live. A life of fearing another Tevinter Imperium had made being a mage hard. Hadiza knew she would have access to the extensive library and instruction she so desperately needed to master her gifts, but she wanted only freedom to choose. She wanted to be able to walk in the sun.

            “I can’t, Aja,” She said brokenly, “I’m leaving tonight…why don’t you come with me? You no more want to be a Templar than I want to be a Circle Mage…we’ve enough martial skills betwixt the two of us to meet any challenge…” Aja shook her head.

            “If we leave, we can never come back. Father would disinherit us both, and with…with all that melodrama with mother it would ruin our family. You truly want to live your life on the run? Mage aside, you know what it’s like out there for girls…if the wrong person finds you…”

            “I’ll be fine.” Hadiza said balling her hand into a fist, which was bathed in flame. Aja’s brows raised and she let out a helpless chuckle.

            “I suppose you’re right. If you’re going to be bullheaded about this, then I’ve no choice but to help you don’t I?”

            Hadiza smiled. “You would do that for me?”

            Aja squeezed her sister’s shoulders and then turned to head toward the door. She glanced back, her grin wide and rife with sincerity.

            “Of course. You are my sister, and if nothing else, the look on the Knight Commander’s face when he comes to collect you will be priceless.” She laughed, opening the door to leave.

            “Aja!” Hadiza called and the other girl stopped, turning a look of surprise to her sister. Hadiza bit her lip.

            “Thank you,” She said, “Truly. You don’t know how much this means to me.” Aja smiled again and dipped her head in a gesture of nonchalance. Hadiza felt her heart grow lighter. In a matter of hours she would be free. No titles, no Templars, no Circle. She could go wherever she wished, do as she pleased, and so long as she kept her powers hidden, her martial skills would serve her well wherever she went.

 

 

            It was some time betwixt the witching hours and the hopeful dawn that Hadiza made her escape. She had not heard from her mother or father all evening after dinner, and wagered he was in a fit of rage, either at her mother or her…or both of them. Too many secrets had been dragged to the light in a short amount of time, though it seemed to Hadiza her secret was far more hurtful than any affair her mother was having.

            After dressing in the most lightweight and sturdy clothes she could dig out of her wardrobe, and packing her armor and weapons into a backpack, she loitered in the hall outside of her sister’s room, fraught with nervous energy, her stomach turning incessantly as she considered the consequences of failure. It was at the moment where she was about to lose her nerve that her sister crept silently out of the room, nearly startling her out of her skin. Aja was clad in only her leathers, no armor, and she surveyed Hadiza with a critical eye.

            “Ready?” She asked and Hadiza nodded, not trusting her voice. The two set out down the hall where they made their way down to the vestibule.

            “We’ll take the servant’s entrance through the kitchens,” Aja whispered, “We can use the lattice on the eastern wall to get to the battlements and…did you bring any rope?” Hadiza gestured to one of the many pockets on her backpack. She had come prepared.

            “Oh good. Alright, so once we’re on the battlements we can repel down the wall and you’ll be clear to exit the city. Do you have maps? Provisions?”

            Hadiza hesitated. She hadn’t thought to get a map or provisions. Now that it occurred to her, she felt her face grow hot.

            “No matter,” Aja said, “Father keeps updated maps of the Free Marches and Thedas in his study. I’m sure he won’t miss them. As for provisions…we can snatch things from the kitchen on our way out.” The way Aja spoke sounded almost as if she planned to come with her. Hadiza did not let herself hope. If they were discovered, it would be the last time they saw one another. And even then, they might strip Aja of her desire to become a Templar and force her into a life of chastity in the Chantry instead. Somehow she couldn’t see her sister as a Chantry sister. Hadiza shook her head and strengthened her resolve.

            She could do this. She _had_ to do this.

            The door to their father’s study was closed, but it was not locked, and they crept inside, silent as the shadows they stuck to. The study had no window save the large one overlooking the front courtyard. Their father loved to observe the comings and goings of the household while he read and smoked his pipe. Hadiza felt her heart clench at the thought. His pipe sat on his desk; cold and cleaned, and arranged neatly like everything else in the austere room. Aja was climbing onto the footstool to reach for a pair of scrolls from one of the honeycombed cubbies along the wall.

            “How lucky are we that father labels all of his things, eh?” Aja laughed and Hadiza only smiled tersely, her nerves still fraught with nervousness. The maps secured, they left the study as quietly as they had come, making their way further down to the servants’ wing. The kitchens were cold; the fire in the hearth had been doused and the candles snuffed. Everything had been cleaned and neatly put away and Hadiza saw the tray of sweet pastries Maggie left out for the morning crew. Tentatively she took one and ate it, in hopes it calmed her nerves. Brushing the crumbs from her hands onto her knee, she glanced around.

            “Do you know where you’re going to go?” Aja asked her as she busied herself with a sweet treat. Hadiza shook her head. She had the maps, now; she would think of something in due course. However, that was not the reason Aja had asked her that question.

            “Some of this food won’t keep for long on the road. And let’s be honest…we’ve never cooked a day in our lives. How do you expect to feed yourself during your travels?” She went into the storeroom and Hadiza followed. This was where the dry goods were kept: grain, wheat, flour, dried and cured meats, cheeses.

            Hadiza licked her lips.

            “I can learn as I go,” She said determinedly as she began taking strips of salted and dried venison from the curing station they hung from. She knew she would go hungry in the days to come, and so learning to survive would be vital. She didn’t know how to cook, had never hunted nor fished a day in her life, and for all her martial skills, she had taken no lives in her time since wielding blades.

            “Will you go to Tevinter?” Aja asked. “You know we’ve cousins there that will likely take you in.” Hadiza shuddered. Those cousins she had only met once during a time when the family had to come together over a matter that would affect their lines. They were darkling creatures with a sinister air to them, and they carried themselves with an arrogance and air of self-importance that did nothing to belie the fact that they were cruel. They would take her in, most likely, but at what cost?

            “Mages rule in Tevinter,” Aja continued, “It’s the only place you’d ever truly be safe from the Templars. They’ve fewer restrictions on your magical use, I hear. Blood magic is as common as any other school of magic. Necromancy too.” Aja went on almost cheerily. Hadiza felt her blood boil.

            “Are you so eager to see me gone that you would write me off as a…a…an abomination so cheerfully?” She demanded, her voice raising a little louder than necessary. Aja held up her hands, brows raised.

            “In case you have failed to notice, Diza, I’m the one helping you escape. ‘Twas merely a suggestion. I would never think you’d dabble in such taboo and forbidden magics. You seem quite torn up about losing father’s love over the fact that you’re not what he expected, I do not think you’d seek to dig deeper by becoming an abomination as well.” Hadiza was so angry. How could here sister be so cavalier about this? Why help her if she would only twist the knife every step of the way? Hadiza shoved past her sister back into the kitchen and toward the servants’ entrance in the back.

            “Let’s get this over with, then you can claim my inheritance and be father’s favorite.” Hadiza muttered. Aja frowned briefly but trailed after her. The servants’ entrance led out into a small back alleyway that smelled rank with old metal, the stench of garbage, and was just in general not as appealing as the main entrances to the manor. It was a narrow and damp passage that led to the back of the manor at large. Hadiza felt her noble sensibilities being assaulted as she struggled to maintain her balance on the slippery stone pathway, and kept her hands off the walls, which were stained with grime and build-up. She could take a punch, could be thrown about in the dirt of the practice ring but this was just disgusting.

The remainder of their trip passed without incident as they came upon the lattice that scaled the western wall. It was overrun with thorny vines and they hid behind a cloister of young, planted trees to observe the battlements. The guards on patrol were rather lax, as Ostwick had not known anything resembling a war-time condition since the Qunari landed during the Storm Age. In this, the Trevelyan sisters were rather fortunate and as they began their ascent, Hadiza felt the first dregs of her stress drain away.

As she climbed onto the battlements, Ostwick came into view.

The night air was crisp on her skin, and she took a deep, reverent breath, turning in a slow circle to look upon the sprawl of the estate and dash the tears from her eyes. Aja joined her momentarily, heaving a sigh and a grunt as she hauled herself up onto the battlements.

“We better get started. Not long before dawn, I bet.” Aja said as she reached for the rope attached to Hadiza’s pack. They had no grappling hook and so finding something to latch the rope would be difficult.

“Oi!” Both girls froze as one of the guards rounded one of the corners, torch in hand. Aja and Hadiza glanced at one another. They had no choice but to flee the way they came, but it was too late. They had frozen and the torchlight fell on them.

“Run!” Aja shouted and tossed herself over the edge of the wall, climbing down the lattice as fast as she could. Hadiza barely had time to flee before the guard’s hand reached out, grabbing her by the backpack.

“Blighted thieves!” He snarled as Hadiza squirmed. She had no way to free herself from the straps and before she could call out, the guard struck her once in the head.

Hadiza had been hit before. She’d sparred with her sister for years, had taken her fair share of hits from instructors and sister alike, but she’d never been struck with the intent to incapacitate her. Not truly.

Stars danced in her vision as her head reeled. Maker’s Breath, was her head wounded? What was that noise? It was her…moaning in pain…trying to tell the guard to stand down. Had Aja abandoned her? Surely she’d gone to get help…

The guard shoved her to the ground and Hadiza clumsily fumbled to free herself of her backpack. The straps got caught and she squirmed and wriggled as the guard drew his sword.

Hadiza’s eyes widened as she realized what he meant to do.

With no options left to her, and her weapons out of immediate reach, she rolled off the edge of the battlements and plummeted to the ground below.

_Maker guide me._ She thought as she reached desperately for the lattice to slow or stop her fall. Wood and vines snapped under her speeding weight and when she hit the ground she was aware of a white-hot pain unlike anything she’d ever felt before. She lay there at the bottom of the wall, immobilized, sobbing as the alarm was raised and the estate stirred to life. There was shouting and when Hadiza tried to move she received a venomous and painful protest from her right arm. It had to have been broken.

In moments she was surrounded by guards and bathed in brilliant torchlight. She squinted against the glare.

“Is that…?” She heard one of them ask in bewilderment. Before anyone could confirm this, a path was being cleared, and Hadiza heard her father’s voice growling orders.

“Move aside! Let me…Andraste preserve me…Hadiza!” Her father came to her and for a fleeting moment, Hadiza felt as if everything would be alright. Her injury was severe, and mayhap that would stir his sympathy to see what this fate had driven her to. He touched her gingerly, examining her. She hurt everywhere but mostly in her broken arm that she cradled uselessly where she lay.

Evangeline came outside and for a moment Hadiza thought she may still be angry with her for what happened at dinner, but at the sight of her daughter laying in a crumpled heap, Evangeline let out a cry of shock.

“Oh Maker! Edward what happened?”

Hadiza felt hands as her vision began to black out, they were lifting her carefully.

“Bring her inside! We’ll not have her catching a chill on the cold stones.” Another voice…mayhap a healer? Hadiza did not know. Her vision faded to black. Perhaps she had no need for such an elaborate escape. Perhaps this was enough to convince them to keep her home where she felt she belonged.


	6. The Circle

            When Hadiza woke up, the first thing she noticed was that she was not in her room.

            Almost immediately she tried to sit up, but winced in pain as her body beckoned her to stillness. Taking a shaking breath, she swept her silverite gaze about the room, seeking the comfort of familiarity. She had walked the Fade for a long time between that night and now, and it was when her gaze settled on the door that she felt something was deeply wrong.

            There was a bedside table but it was bare save for a single candle, a pitcher of water, and a cup. The bed itself was rather uncomfortable, nothing like the goose down blankets and pillows she had in her own room. The room itself was bare, with not so much as a tapestry to adorn the stonewalls. As soon as she finished her survey she made the effort to extricate herself from bed. She noted her clothes as well, a simple set of robes, soft blue in color, but somewhat threadbare. She stood on shaky legs and made her way to the chamber pot to relieve herself. Once finished she went to wet her lips and throat with the water, not bothering to pour it in the provided cup and simply drinking deep from the pitcher.

            The single door on the other side of the room shuddered as someone turned the handle. Hadiza set the pitcher down slowly as it swung open. Standing there was a mage. He was an older fellow, balding in the front, with white hair and a well-kempt beard to accompany it. His eyes were rheumy with age and he held a staff in his hand; the end was fashioned into a stylized sun and moon motif with an amplifying sapphire set between them. His robes were simplistic but the cloth that spun them was clearly rich.

            “Ah, Lady Trevelyan,” He said, his voice reedy, “So glad you have finally rejoined the ranks of the living. You had quite a nasty fall. It is a good thing your father contacted us in time, else we would not have been able to save you.”

            Hadiza said nothing for a moment, hesitating.

            “Where is my father?” She asked. “I would speak with him personally.” No more than that did she say. The mage seemed about to explain it to her when another figure cut in; one Hadiza was all too familiar with.

            Knight Commander Fredrick cast an imposing figure compared to the mage and his expression held all of the severity she had ever seen with him save the one night she’d seen him with her mother, only there was something different about it. He looked…angry.

            “Your father has more important things to do, such as running the estate and his business. You, on the other hand, must be prepared for your new life here at the Circle.”

            Hadiza let out an involuntary sound.

            “The Circle?! But…”

            “You are a mage, Lady Trevelyan, and the Order dictates that all mages be placed in the Circle. Your parents have explained to me that they were unaware of your powers until the evening of your fall.”

            Hadiza felt any protestations she had readied turn to ash in her mouth.

            “What?!” She cried. How could they lie like that? Her mother had known from the first that she was a mage and had actively sought to hide her powers. Her sister knew.

            “What of my sister? Will Aja still join the Order?” She asked but Knight Commander Fredrick turned to the mage, his gaze hard and almost disdainful.

            “First Enchanter, I trust you’ll see to it that she is integrated into the Circle without incident. As it so happens, she has a penchant for escape—botched as it may be—and so I will send my men to guard her until she can be trusted to move about on her own.”

            Hadiza’s mouth worked but she could say nothing. What could she say? Her family had given her to the Templars the same night of her fall. How long ago was it? The First Enchanter gave an obedient nod and Fredrick strode away, almost angrily. The First Enchanter turned his watery eyes on Hadiza.

            “I am sorry you had to find out this way, Lady Trevelyan, but it is for the best, I assure you. I will see to it that you are settled properly as an apprentice. Since you were an apostate before I am going to assume you’ve had some time to grapple with your abilities, yes?”

            Hadiza nodded stonily.

            “Good, then you won’t be an apprentice long, it seems. You’ll need to undergo a Harrowing, of course, as we all did to become a full Circle Mage. Until then, you will room with the other apprentices on the first floor…” Hadiza didn’t hear the rest, because her blood was in her ears, her heart had dropped to the soles of her feet in pieces, and she had never known such despair.

            Thus began her days at the Circle.


	7. A Harrowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I mean...

            Whenever Hadiza thought back on the years she spent in the Circle it was with a mixture of emotions. It was mostly desolation and despair, but beneath it ran the hot magma of anger for the hand life had dealt her.

            Her first year in the Circle, she had spoken to hardly anyone, and in truth her active effort to be asocial would not have made much difference. The Templars ruled the Circle and it showed in the skittishness of the mages who inhabited the tower. Mages shrank in the presence of too many Templars, scurrying off to do whatever tasks they’d been assigned, hurrying to and from the library in silence. No one seemed inclined to speak to one another, not even in hushed whispers.

Despite the comfortable life they lived, they were constantly reminded that at any moment the Templars held their lives in their gauntleted hands. Hadiza had not feared the Templars during her initial days, but over time, a steady diet of being looked upon with hard eyes and stony silence, combined with the fear the mages exuded like a pheromone, had begun to wear down on her pride and resolve. Too often she found herself reluctant to leave the library, where the guard was lightest, for when she returned to the apprentice chambers, where the guard was heaviest, she felt herself being watched at all times. Knight Commander Fredrick ran the Circle with a firm hand.

But there was one solace, and that was that Aja had indeed been right: the library was extensive.

Hadiza had taken to her studies like a fish to water, devouring all the lore and knowledge she could, straining her eyes under candlelight to learn more about her gift and how to master it. As the First Enchanter had said, she had years on the apprentices in her group as she had spent the better part of her formative years as an apostate. What she had learned, she had learned in the Fade.

Hadiza took this opportunity to refine her spellcraft and skills. Yet, even that was aggressively dull for she was far ahead of the other apprentices who could barely grapple a simple winter’s grasp spell when she was spinning snow storms in contained globes of her own creation.

“Nicely done, Trevelyan!” The instructor called as they practiced their primal spells on target dummies. Hadiza was mastering the school of lightning, and she found that primal spells came to her as easy as breathing. She channeled her bitterness and rage into the spells as she’d been taught by the Fade spirit Wisdom, and used her pain as fuel for her power. The instructor, Senior Enchanter Rocata, came to observe the mages from behind, adjusting hand positioning and staff technique to amplify the lightning bolt spell.

“Always use a staff,” Senior Enchanter said, “The more you use your staff, the less lyrium you’ll have to take to replenish your magic reserves. Samuel, lift your arm. The last thing we need is you shocking someone’s stones off by accident.”

There was a snicker from the students. Hadiza crossed her arms, inwardly amused but her anger suppressed her need to laugh. Instead she turned her head away, decidedly bored.

After the instruction was over and the students were dismissed, the Senior Enchanter took Hadiza aside.

“I know your story, Trevelyan,” He said, hands clasped behind his back as she looked at him warily, “I am sorry you had to be brought into the Circle this way, truly, and I can see that your years spent as an apostate were not wasted. You have a natural aptitude for mastering magic.”

Hadiza visibly relaxed, rubbing her right arm, a habit she had developed since she woke up in the tower. Rocata did not miss the gesture and gave her a sympathetic smile.

“Healing magic is extraordinary, but it does nothing if not worry those of us who employ it. Even I still find myself grasping at old wounds that are no longer there.” He canted his head, violet eyes twinkling. “Your wounds, I suspect, extend beyond the physical.”

Hadiza suddenly found herself unable to meet his gaze. Rocata dipped his head, though not to her.

“Knight Commander,” He greeted and took his leave. Hadiza froze and then whirled around, perhaps too abruptly. Whatever expression she wore, she did not know for Knight Commander Fredrick looked briefly nonplussed.

“Something you need, Knight Commander?” She asked in the most respectful yet haughty tone she could manage. The man’s face was unchanged since she’d known him as a child, but she could not shake the image of his relief and contentment from the night she saw him with her mother. Was that even the same man as the one who glowered at her, now?

“You may still be nobility, Lady Trevelyan, but your bloodline will earn you no favor here,” He said harshly, “You’d do well to mind your tone when you address me.”

Hadiza wanted to laugh but fear stymied her hysteria. Most Templars were of common blood, usually warriors, farmers, and fisher folk from backwater villages and townships all over Thedas. Very few noblemen and women joined the ranks of the Order as their nobility allowed them the freedom of flexibility. Hadiza still had her family name, but she had precious little else within the Circle to shield her from being treated as a mage.

Of course he was right in that respect, but it did not keep her from reminding him of their difference in class.

“Quite,” She said in her best imitation of her mother’s unbothered tone, “But that still begs the question as to why you’ve sought me out, Knight Commander. I see no abominations or blood mages here.” Fredrick’s good eye narrowed and the lines around his mouth went pale with tension. Hadiza was already tense and prepared to defend herself.

“I am not here to bring you harm, Lady Trevelyan,” He said tightly, “Only to inform you that you’re the time of your Harrowing is fast approaching and that any preparation you need to make should be done so in a timely manner.” He seemed about to leave when his expression softened…as much as it could on a man so tense and severe.

“About your mother…” He began and Hadiza held up her hand to silence him.

“Don’t.” She said quietly. “If you are trying to apologize then don’t bother. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve a Harrowing to prepare for.”

Hadiza pushed past the Knight Commander and stalked away as fast as she could without looking like she was fleeing his presence. Fredrick gaze after her a moment and then seemed to sigh. By the time Hadiza returned to the apprentice quarters her heart was pounding and her blood was beating in her ears like some ancient, primeval cadence. She was not sure if she was angry or simply unnerved. Mayhap she was a bit of both; either way, she was glad to be out of the Knight Commander’s presence.

“If it isn’t Rocata’s little prodigy,” A nasty voice said. Hadiza straightened her posture. There was Samuel, the boy who was a bit older than she, leaning casually against one of the bedposts on the bunk beds the apprentices shared.

“Not a prodigy,” Hadiza countered, “I’ve just been at it a little longer than others before I got here.” Samual made a noise of disgust.

“Yes,” He drawled, “We _all_ know your little sob story, Trevelyan. Poor little rich girl, finds out she’s a mage but wanted to be a Templar. Hid your identity from your family for years thinking by the time you took your vows no one would bother to notice. Yes, yes, it was all the gossip around Ostwick when the scandal broke.” Samuel looked at his nails, examining his hand casually as he stood from his languid lean. Hadiza knew that her family had been shamed for her being an apostate before finally being handed to the Circle. She counted that a lucky break from the sort of scandal they’d face if it ever came to light that her mother had taken the Knight Commander as a lover.

“What do you want, Samuel?” Hadiza demanded. “A lesson? ‘Tis no fault of mine if you cannot heed the Senior Enchanter’s instructions and learn to use a damn staff.” At that Samuel frowned, hands balling into fists. Hadiza’s brows rose in surprise.

“Really?” She barked out a harsh laugh. She’d displayed none of her martial skills since coming to the Circle, but that did not mean she had forgotten. They had taken her armor and weapons and even the clothes she’d escaped in, but she’d learned to improvise. A broken staff made for excellent practice swords.

“Someone needs to knock you down a peg, Trevelyan. You prance about these halls as if you’re too good to even speak to the rest of us, not so much as a kind word. You think you’ve had it hard? You grew up in a life of wealth and privilege but you cry because now you have to live the life as someone whose name bears no weight.” Hadiza felt her anger flare and her eyes burned. How dare this little peasant seek to spit on her family’s good name?! She was a blighted Trevelyan and she’d see him pay for his insolence for using her name as a bludgeon.

“You had best move along, Samuel. My Harrowing is soon and I’d hate for us to part on such hostile terms when I am made a full Circle Mage.” She cracked her knuckles, relishing the feel of her old calluses as Samuel charged at her. It was too easy. The boy was all power and no technique, and had she been armed, she knew a dozen kill strokes to take him down before he so much as twitched in surprise. Instead, she simply locked his assailing arm in her own and allowed his momentum to carry him. First he lost his balance and tripped, and then he flipped over and landed hard on his back on the cold stone floor. He lay there, clearly in pain as Hadiza smoothed out her robes and straightened her sleeves.

“As I said, you best move along. Your next course of action could prove detrimental to your health.” She said coolly. Samuel struggled to turn over and then climbed to his feet, body trembling in pain. He was not a boy who had spent his life fighting, and though she had no body count, she was certain she had more fighting experience than he had in his lifetime. Samuel glared at her one last time.

“You will regret this, Trevelyan. Your family won’t protect you in here. No one will.” He made a retreat, then, and Hadiza stood there, releasing a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. She had not been afraid of getting hurt. Not in this place. She had feared hurting other people. Part of her knew Samuel was right, however, because she had taken great pains to not associate herself with the other mages here. Even the First Enchanter, who had been kind to her from the beginning, she kept at a distance. Part of her was still that little girl who wanted to be a Templar and she wanted to show she was an outstanding example of a Circle Mage. If any of her fellow mages were revealed to be corrupted then there would be no way to tie her name to them.

Even after knowing her family had betrayed her, she still struggled to bring honor to the Trevelyan name.

 

 

 

The day of her Harrowing, Hadiza was strangely nervous. Other mages who had undergone the rite were forbidden to speak on what it entailed but in such a small, cloistered community, gossip was the bread and butter that made Circle life bearable. Hadiza had listened and from what she understood her Harrowing would merely be a trip into the Fade. She shrugged to herself and laughed. If that was all it took to become a Circle Mage then they might as well have left her at home! She had walked the Fade side by side with the spirit of Wisdom plenty of times, so this would be no different.

Why then was she nervous?

She sought out the First Enchanter before the rite to speak with him. He was in his study, hunched over a very large and very ancient tome, wearing the lenses on his face to improve his vision. He did not look up as Hadiza entered, squinting down at the yellowed pages.

“Lady Trevelyan,” He said as he looked up at her, “To what do I owe the honor of one of our most talented apprentices coming to see me.” Hadiza shifted uncomfortably. She disliked this…high praise she received when it was tied to her nobility. She had come to despise a lot of things that tied to her nobility.

“First Enchanter,” She began, trying to get a wrangle on her words, “I…I wanted to ask you about the Harrowing.” She said firmly. The First Enchanter’s bushy brows knitted in consternation.

“You know I cannot tell you what it encompasses, Lady Trevelyan.”

“I know,” Hadiza countered, “And I would never ask that of you. It’s just that…I have walked the Fade before. Plenty of times in fact, long before I came to the Circle, and have not once been possessed or under threat of possession. If this Harrowing encompasses that, then I should have been an official Circle Mage a hundred times over.”

For a moment there was silence and the First Enchanter studied her face. Hadiza steeled her spine and gazed back at him. Whatever answer he sought to an unasked question, he seemed satisfied with it, and stood to round his desk.

“You are right, of course, in that a Harrowing involves walking through the Fade. However, I can see that you are fraught more with nervous energy than you are with pride. You are nervous because in all your other journeys into the Fade there was never a Templar waiting to kill you should you wake up and not be yourself. Am I right?”

Hadiza felt the truth blossom in her like spring in violent bloom, the color garish and bright as she nodded. It was as he said. Hadiza had walked the Fade fearlessly only because she woke up with no Templar sword at her neck. She had walked fearlessly because no one would threaten to make her Tranquil if she proved to have no control over her powers.

Maker’s Breath being a mage in the Circle was hard.

“You needn’t worry, Lady Trevelyan,” The First Enchanter said to her, “I’ve faith that you will be more than capable of handling your Harrowing. Speaking of which, you should head up to the chamber, now. I believe the preparations are almost finished. I will join you anon.” Hadiza whirled and left the study without a word. So she would become a Circle Mage in full, then. On the heels of her nervousness came somewhat else. It was a familiar feeling, the kind she got just before a bout with her sister, or before she cast a particularly difficult yet powerful spell.

It was excitement.

 

 

 

The goblet of lyrium glowed bright enough to cast a large circle of light in the circular Harrowing chamber. Surrounding it was a coterie of Templar, wearing their ubiquitous armor and looking as grim and stone faced as their Knight Commander who stood as erect as a boy of 17. The First Enchanter stood opposite him and whether this was customary or just a happenstance evocation of symbolism, Hadiza could not guess.

“You must drink deep from the lyrium. It will induce a deeper sense of magic and sleep and thus make it easier for you to slip through the Veil,” The First Enchanter instructed her. Hadiza nodded absently, her eyes on the Knight Commander whose visage was blurred in the hazy, blue glow. She approached the goblet slowly and cupped her hands under the curve of it lifting it to her lips.

“Remember,” Knight Commander Fredrick said, “Should you become possessed we are bound by the Order to slay you. Should you lose control of your powers then you will be made Tranquil.” Hadiza froze, blinking in bewilderment.

“For Andraste’s sake, Fredrick, there’s no need to issue threats. We get enough of those just by seeing you lot patrolling about day in and day out. Lady Trevelyan, please disregard that. Are you ready to begin?”

Hadiza nodded and shot a look at the Knight Commander who kept a lid on the sneer that threatened to twist his lips.

She lifted the goblet, which was heavy, and brought it to her lips for a deep pull.

The bitterness of the lyrium nearly made her gag, but as it coursed down her throat she felt like she had drank from winter itself. It was icy in her blood and it sang. Maker did it sing! She felt her magic thrum like a plucked harp string, reverberating through every fiber of her being in harmony with the lyrium inside of her. She felt as if her vision was ten times better, could see the magic in everything, crawling all over the world like an intricate, living web. The world spun in her vision, the Harrowing chamber wheeled overhead like stars. Nothing faded to black, as she expected, but merely passed into a state of suddenly _not being_. She was not falling and yet she was, and when she landed there wasn’t a feeling of impact but a _feeling_ of her standing up _after_ landing.

She was in the Fade…and yet she had never entered it in this way before.

Standing there, she flexed her fingers, testing her body. It was merely a projection of how she saw herself, she knew, but she had to be sure. She was not armed with anything but her wits and her magic, which was fine, but she felt…she felt different. The Fade itself felt different. The way behind her was closed, and so she pressed forward, straining her senses to listen for danger.

There was only the muffling silence of the Fade, and the oppressive weight of _eeriness_ in the atmosphere. She continued on, wondering in the Void she was supposed to do. Where was her test?

She got her answer in literally the next instant.

 

It was a man. Or rather, it bore the appearance of a man. His back was to her, but form what she could see he was tall, slender in build, with a single braid down the length of his back. The braid was silver with age and when the man turned Hadiza frowned. For all intents and purposes, she had not expected to see someone else here.

Least of all a younger version of the First Enchanter.

“You should hurry,” He said, his voice carrying only to her as the Fade’s environment devoured sound for some odd reason, “It won’t be long before he catches you.”

Hadiza frowned.

“Who?”

The First Enchanter’s projection seemed to look off in the distance, at something on he could see. Hadiza followed his gaze but all she saw was the eternal expanse of the Fade.

“You will know when he catches you. Or you will not.” The First Enchanter said and rippled out of her line of sight. Hadiza was alone again.

“Great. Now I’m being hunted.”


	8. Pride & Rage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hadiza is hunted during her Harrowing.

Being hunted was new to Hadiza. In her training days, she had only been trained to face her enemy in combat. She had never been trained to flee a fight or hide. Even old Ricardo, who had specialized her in dual-wielding in the traditional rogue fashion, had gone against his own nature and trained her to stand her ground.

            So being hunted, Hadiza itched to face her enemy, if nothing else.

            The Fade was an endless expanse of _sameness_ to her, and while in the past it had been quite the adventure, now it was…confining. She felt stressed, as if she were being asked to do an impossible task. She wanted to give up, she wanted to tell the Templars to go fuck themselves, wanted to tell the First Enchanter that this was bullshit to the highest degree and that she could cast circles around most of the mages in the tower, but it would do her no good.

            The first time her hunter exposed himself it was when she stopped to get her bearings.

            “Oh my, oh my,” A deep, pervasive voice said, seeping into her skin like an ague and making her freeze, “You are a _ripe_ one, aren’t you?” Hadiza went on the defensive, mentally arming herself with the appropriate spells as a tall figure emerged from seemingly nothing.

            “You stink of pride, of the deepest sin of mankind. You reek of arrogance. By the Void it is about time those fools sent one to me that was as ripe as you.” The demon—for she knew it as such—took the form of a man, only corrupted. His face might have been handsome, but corruption had warped it, and his hands ended in grotesque claws and not human hands at all. It made no efforts to hide itself and all at once Hadiza understood.

            “A pride demon,” She laughed to herself, “I should have seen that one coming. Well-played, First Enchanter.”

            The pride demon laughed, its voice deep—too deep for an ordinary mortal man—and each time it felt as if the very fabric of her existence was being toyed with. The voice too was corrupted, it seemed.

            “I had thought to hide from you, Young Trevelyan,” It said, circling her like a wolf in the night, “But you and I are alike in that we never did like to hide.”

            Hadiza sighed. She’d never had to fight a pride demon before, but she had learned extensively about them. They were a bitch and a half to defeat, if she recalled.

            “We’re nothing alike,” She said in an exasperated tone, “I can feel things and you’re stuck in the Fade wishing you could feel things. Can I go, now?”

            The demon laughed again. Loudly. Rudely. Uproariously.

            Hadiza suddenly felt her confidence shift to slight unease.

            “I’m going to have so much fun seeping into your body,” It stepped closer, close enough that she could see the cracked corruption beneath the human form it wore, “I’ll burn away your pathetic soul from within to without. I’ll see the world through your eyes…and all the power you harbor shall be mine.” It grinned, and revealed a mouth full of jagged, serrated fangs. A forked tongue licked out of its open mouth.

            “Pardon my asking, but are you not supposed to offer me something? Power? Riches? Fame? It seems premature to threaten me with what comes after I make the deal, doesn’t it?” The demon drew back as if she’d struck it.

            “I offer you nothing. I could take you now, if I wish, mortal. But—“

            “They bound you for this Harrowing, didn’t they?” Hadiza almost laughed at the absurdity of it. They’d bound this demon so it could not truly harm her at will. She had to accept it for her to become corrupted.

            “Clever mortal,” It said and its shape changed. The shadow of its true form fell upon her like an omen and it stood, tall and erect, blotting out her entire vision with its broad shape. Glaring down at her with eyes that resembled nothing she’d ever seen before, it dipped its horns in a sign of respect. Hadiza frowned.

            “You’re not going to kill me?” She asked. The pride demon snarled but something held it back as it raised its massive fist, crackling with electricity; something a bit stronger than its attribute.

            “Your trial is not yet finished, Young Trevelyan,” It warned with gleeful malice, “Be thankful for this moment, for next time you walk this place there will be no magic to protect you from me.” The demon vanished silently, with not so much as a ripple to mark its passing. Hadiza allowed herself to exhale, crumpling to the ground and releasing the terror she’d pent up during the exchange. It had been so close…it had nearly touched her! Maker’s Breath she could have lost her life had she not chosen her words so carefully!

            Regaining control of her breathing, she bit her lip and pressed onward.

            It was then she happened upon the spirit of Valor, which took the form of a nondescript warrior.

            “Hold!” It bellowed to her as she approached. She stopped, placing her hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Be you friend or foe?” It asked.

            “Friend if you’ve need of one,” Hadiza answered easily. The spirit considered her a moment and then gestured for her to approach. She put her hands down, approaching the spirit slowly.

            “You walk the Fade unarmed,” It observed, “And just now you have faced down the sin known as Pride. Foolish of you.” Hadiza rolled her eyes.

            “I take it you know why I’m here, then.” She said. Valor laughed; the voice sounded like the inside of a bell tower, all metallic echoes that made her wince.

            “Indeed. Every so often one of your kind blunders into this realm, unarmed and frightened out of their wits. But you’ve been here before, I think. What is your name?” Hadiza crossed her arms.

            “Hadiza.” She said simply. The pride demon had known her surname but only because whomever had bound it to hunt her down had given it. Names held power, and she’d not go throwing hers about recklessly. Aside, the Trevelyan name was meaningless in the Fade. Valor considered her a moment and she almost swore the bright face was squinting at her.

            “Wisdom has spoken of you. Seems to think you have greater potential than what your stone prison offers you.” At that, Hadiza uncrossed her arms, eyes wide.

            “Wisdom spoke of me? Where is he? Is he about?”

            “You’ll not find him during your trial, I’m afraid,” Valor told her, “It seems your path has been restricted to what your superiors have set. If you like, I can arm you…for a price.” Hadiza frowned. Currency had no place in the Fade so clearly this was another test.

            “Name it.” She said, testing the waters. Valor crossed his arms, gesturing o the rack of weapons at his side.

            “If you can best me in single combat I will allow you to arm yourself as you so choose.” It said. Hadiza had not fought another person in single combat in over a year. This would be difficult to say the least.

            “No,” She said firmly, “That is not why I’m here. I’m a mage, now, and thus, I must fight like one. Mind over body.” Valor laughed again, softer this time.

            “You’ve an honorable spirit, at least, and for that I will gift you a weapon of your choosing for no cost. Take your pick, and may your enemies quake before the righteousness within you.”

            Hadiza’s mind reeled. Almost too good to be true. She could choose one weapon and she had a feeling it would have to be the staff. She’d managed to keep her other skills hidden, and had practiced in abandoned rooms in the tower where none would dare to look for her, but she had no choice in this matter. So she picked a staff that was carved at the end to cradle what looked to be a fire opal.

            “Excellent choice,” Valor said with a nod as Hadiza strapped the staff to her back and pressed onward.

 

 

            Time passed differently in the Fade, but Hadiza knew her time was limited. If she did not return in a desirable amount of time, the Templars would kill her out of the assumption that she had been lost to demons. She wanted to snort at that notion but instead decided that this entire excursion was a loss. Whomever was hunting her needed to come out soon.

            “This is such bullshit.” She muttered to herself, tugging at the sleeves of her robes in annoyance. She wanted to scream and shout and curse because all she wanted was to be through with this Harrowing and continue as a fully-recognized mage.

            She remembered her sister’s casual sneer the last night she saw her, and remembered all too well that her sister had conveniently not been present during her capture.

            For that is what it was when she tumbled from the battlements that cold evening: a capture. Her parents had not even allowed her the decency to heal at home and instead shipped her unconscious body off to the Circle. When she had awoken, everything she knew and loved had been taken from her. And since that time, she’d written letters and not a single response was sent her way. She wondered if Knight Commander Frederick had somewhat to do with that.

            She got angrier.

            That’s when she heard the bellow of rage in the distance.

            It was faint, but powerful, and Hadiza froze, unstrapping her staff and holding it at the ready. The demon it came from sounded far away but distance in the Fade was as meaningless as time. It was endless and arduous. The demon could be mere yards from her for all she knew.

            “If you mean to harm me, then come out and face me!” She called, turning in a careful circle to observe the surrounding area. There was no answer and for some reason, Hadiza felt her fury building. She was so angry, but not at anything in particular, just… _everything_ in particular.

            She growled out a curse and tightened her grip on her staff.

            “For Andraste’s sake, man!” She cried, feeling the fury in her manifest as it suddenly became too hot to breath. She tugged at her collar with one hand, and oddly, in the midst of her building anger, she thought of her sister Aja who used to do the same thing. The heat became oppressive and Hadiza retreated to try and find a cooler spot.

            The rage demon gave no warning, it simply _was_.

            She barely had time to react before it swiped at her, fire and magma spraying from its misshapen body. Hadiza threw up an arcane shield quickly.

            “Maker’s Breath!” She cried, stumbling away as her shield blew up in her face in a shower of sparks, singing her hair. Rage demons weren’t much for talking, and Hadiza could deal with that.

            And it was a good thing cold magic had been her first school of magic, because she had a lot of aggression that needed to be worked out.

            She steeled herself and faced the demon, which seemed to draw in a collective breath to increase its massive size. Hadiza’s eyes glowed, and she summoned winter from the marrow in her bones, felt the frost building along the staff. The spell she had in mind might have been considered overkill in the mortal realm, but here, in the Fade, she found it suitable for the rage she felt which fueled the demon before her.

            With an exhale, Hadiza unleashed her magic just as the demon opened its maw to spew molten corruption.

            There was a clash that resulted in a blinding light, an enraged and incredulous roar, and the Fade spun out of view only to become the convex ceiling of the Harrowing chamber.

            “Well, Frederick, you’ve your answer,” A voice said crossly, “Sheath your blade at once.”

            Hadiza blinked.

            “I…” Her voice croaked, hoarse from disuse. Faces crowded her line of sight, that of the First Enchanter and Senior Enchanter Rocata.

            “Hush,” The First Enchanter said quietly, “You’ve had quite an ordeal, and you need to rest.” He looked away, beyond her peripheral vision as she struggled to make sense of where she was now. She felt completely drained, contrast to how energized she felt when the overdose of lyrium had sung in her veins like a blessing.

            “You there, young Templar. Make yourself useful and see her abed in her new quarters. She’s earned her respite.” Hadiza tried to sit up but found her arms trembling from the effort of holding her body up. She fell, only to be caught in the gauntleted hands of the young Templar who had been assigned to her. He was a plain-faced young man, who had the makings of the same grim severity that Knight Commander Frederick sported everyday. He carried her gingerly, unceremoniously, to the mage’s quarters. She didn’t bother to stay awake and was unconscious once more long before he placed her in bed.


	9. Blight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Hadiza spent 9:30 Dragon.

            The Blight had come, or so the rumors said. What little information was allowed to filter within the tower, Hadiza ate up ravenously. It was rumored that Teryn Loghain mac Tir had quit the field and allowed the King of Ferelden to perish under the onslaught of the Blight, along with most of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden. Civil unrest was brewing to the south and yet the years passed without incident for Hadiza, as far as the Circle was concerned. As a fully recognized Circle mage, she was afforded more respect than previously, and a great deal more leniency than she had been shown as a mere apprentice. There was, however, one matter in which Hadiza took note that she had not been expecting.

            Samuel had long expressed his disdain for Hadiza and the fact that she not only had the wealth and title of nobility on her side, but was also a favorite of the seasoned mages for her aptitude for magic. He had passed his own Harrowing some time after her own, and despite them being recognized with equal respect, Samuel still curled his lip at the sight of her, and for the love of Andraste she could not figure out why he hated her so.

            In the very spirit of her nature, however, Hadiza went against better judgment to confront him.

            She found him, in the mess hall, chatting with another female mage and she looked at him from a distance—truly _looked_. Had he not been so nasty to her, Samuel would be handsome. She’d never thought about it before but she could see the appeal beneath the arrogant and hateful veneer. His black hair was long and luminous, tied in a queue at his nape, a few wild stray locks falling about his face prettily. His eyes were a dark and pleasing shade of brown, and she might have called them warm had he not caught her staring and made a face that said he clearly did not want her here…in this public space. Hadiza frowned. She’d not let some uppity boy with no title or land to call his own scare her off with a few glares. Hadiza straightened her spine and lifted her chin, and then she walked up to him, ignoring the cruelly amused look on the face of his female companion.

            “Trevelyan,” Samuel drawled, “How kind of the Queen to grace us with her presence. Truly. To what do I owe the honor?” The words were little hooks in her armor, and each breath she took she could feel them pulling, trying to peel away her defenses and get to the soft, vulnerable girl beneath them. Hadiza leveled a gaze at him that said she clearly would not tolerate it any longer. He had baited her at every turn and she would much rather lay this unspoken rivalry to rest.

            “No honor in this, I’m afraid,” She said, her voice like chipped stone, “But I’d like to discuss a matter with you in private if you can spare the time from your…” She looked the other woman up and down, hoping she emulated her mother’s best arrogant appraising gaze, “…other pursuits.”

            It worked because the other girl turned red in the face in silent shame and rage. Good. Hadiza felt no sympathy for anyone who allowed Samuel to continually abuse her.

            Samuel did not seem too concerned with his companion’s distaste and instead rose to a stand, meeting Hadiza eye to eye. He always did hate that the bitch was so tall.

            “Alright, then, your majesty,” He said derisively, “Lead on.”

 

 

            They found an old storage room, filled mostly with empty crates or damaged bottles that were designed to hold potent potions, but it was sequestered away from the bulk of the traffic. Being full Circle mages as they were, they were afforded more privacy than the apprentices. As the door shut softly behind them, Hadiza turned.

            “What have I done to you?” She asked bluntly. Samuel’s eyes narrowed, not quite comprehending.

            “I don’t follow,” He replied, “You may want to actually have the conversation with me that leads up to that question.” At Hadiza’s frustrated growl he smirked. He took his pleasure in her frustration and anger, small victories in a war that seemed to have no clear motivation or goal.

            “I mean,” Hadiza knifed her hands through her silken hair, “Why do you insist on making my life difficult? What have I done to you to make you hate me so? You passed your Harrowing same as I, is that not proof enough that there is no competition betwixt the two of us? Must you harangue me every step of the way?”

            Samuel’s face was shuttered, unreadable, but his eyes blazed, his fists clenching. She had gone on the offensive and now it was his turn to be angry.

            “You were hidden by your family for 14 years. Your mother and father are well-known to be devout Andrastians. Your father meets with the Knight Commander frequently.”

            At that, Hadiza paused.

            “He meets with the Knight Commander? When?” Samuel was not wolfish enough to smell the weakness of longing and anticipation and Hadiza silently thanked the Maker for the missed opportunity to torment her further.

            “Oh you did not know? Bann Trevelyan comes to the tower to visit the Knight Commander frequently. It is only recently that he stopped. In any case, you’ve done nothing but waltz in here and act like the blighted queen of Orlais in your arrogance. Some of us did not go so gently into the Circle as you did.” Samuel concluded bitterly. Hadiza let out a helpless laugh. Gently? Ah Maker!

            “Is that what you think happened?” She asked, her laughter bordering on derisive hysteria. “You think I came here willingly? And _gently_ no less?”

            She fixed him with an icy glare and she reveled in the power that thrummed in her blood as he wallowed in her quicksilver gaze.

            “Let me tell you what actually happened, as it seems for all these years you were egregiously misinformed, ser,” Hadiza approached him slowly, power building. The air felt charged suddenly, smelling electric and dizzying, like a draught of lyrium on the heels of a draining spell.

            “I was going to run away with my sister the night I was brought here. And we would have succeeded had a guard not caught us climbing the battlements. I had packed everything from my supplies to maps stolen from my father’s study, and I had planned to flee south. A mercy that my foolish plan turned to ash. I fell from the battlements trying to escape the guard that would have killed me, and shattered my arm in the process. I passed out and when I awoke, I was here in this blighted tower. I had not even been given the choice to recover at home and come here. My father hates mages so much that he shipped his own daughter off to the Circle without saying goodbye. _That_ was far from gentle.”

            Samuel stared at her. At first, she could not believe she’d told him that. She’d spoken of her circumstances to no one—even the First Enchanter. Samuel’s gaze slid away from hers, ashamed and humbled.

            “I…” He began, “I’m sorry. I did not know that was how you arrived. It’s just…I never saw you weep. Not like the others. You were always just silent and determined. You cast spells as easily as breathing. And you’re…” He seemed to trip over his words, frowning in embarrassment for himself. Hadiza’s expression softened only a little.

            “I hid my powers for years from my father. Only my mother and sister knew my secret,” She’d not implicate Belinda in this lest the elf lose her position in the manor, “I’ve had years to practice and perfect certain crafts. I even walked the Fade freely.” Samuel looked her over.

            “So what would you have done if you had not been discovered? Would you have continued on your path to becoming a Templar?” Hadiza dropped her hands to her sides, her shoulders bowing. She had not dared asked herself that question in the nights where the voice in her head grew louder in the quiet. The question, in truth, had been hovering on the edges of her mind but she refused to bring it forward. What if mother’s plan had succeeded? What if she hadn’t revealed her mother’s affair in her outburst that night and subsequently revealed her abilities as a mage?

            Hadiza looked at the floor.

            “I don’t know…I was so ignorant to how all this bit of business worked, actually. I just knew I liked to fight.” Samuel snorted derisively.

            “Never would have took calm and collected Trevelyan for a pig-headed warrior. And it’s funny, isn’t it? You wanted to become a Templar to fight only to see that not much fighting gets done on their end, eh?” Samuel gave her a crooked smile and Hadiza’s cheeks burned. She had guessed aright: Samuel _was_ handsome when he wasn’t being a monumental ass.

            “I guess the joke’s on me. I think you’re the first person I’ve ever actually fought aside from my sister.” She laughed. Samuel chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck.

            “Ah well, I was never much for fighting. Spent most of my life here in the Circle, you see. Mind over body and all that.” Hadiza suddenly found words difficult to grasp and suddenly she was hyperaware of the fact that they were alone in a storage room. How long had they been gone? Maker their absence had been noted. What sort of gossip would spread about what might have transpired?

            “I guess…” She said nervously, “Are we alright, then? I never intended to make you feel…as if you were less than you are.” She tried to look anywhere but at him, felt him gazing at her, and suddenly her robes felt too hot.

            “Yeah,” She heard him say, “We’re alright. Don’t expect much favor from everyone else, though. They live for our little spats.” Hadiza nodded with a smile and turned to open the door.

            “Guess we should head back. Their tongues will be wagging fast enough to cause a maelstrom by now.” Samuel reached for the door at the same time as Hadiza and their heads bumped together. They drew away, each rubbing their foreheads and laughing.

            “Sorry,” She said, massaging the sore spot on her head. Samuel gazed at her through one luminous dark eye, shadowed by falls of his black hair.

            “We’re a right bunch of idiots when we’re not fighting, aren’t we? Alright then, allow me…” He moved in close, reaching for the door handle, and his fingers brushed hers. He had the delicate, deft hands of a mage who had casted spells all his life under the watchful eye of the Circle, and Hadiza thought about his hands and imagined if they were good at something else. She wondered if those cool hands would feel nice on her suddenly fevered skin.

            The air between them was charged again, and this time not from anger. Samuel was mayhap two years her senior, and she noted suddenly that she liked the way his features were put together; from the slight stubble to the graceful and noble lines and curves of his face, to how he wore his hair.

            “Trevelyan…” He murmured and she realized their faces were close again.

            “Yes…?” She asked lamely, as if he actually had a valid question. Their lips touched; just a brush, really, but it was enough to spark a flame, however small. When his mouth took hers she felt something dormant wake up inside of her. It was new, unfamiliar, utterly _gripping_. It was fire in her belly, water where her knees used to be, and a weakness in her flesh she’d never felt. Samuel kissed her languorously, savoring the raw, untutored ardor of her mouth as his tongue probed for entry. Both tasted of lyrium and spiced honeycake and unconsciously Hadiza reached up to cup his face in her hands. Samuel’s arms came around her, the door handle forgotten. The kiss was as electric as a thunderbolt spell and her skin sang as they pulled away from each other, eyes wide with shock at what they had potentially unleashed.

            “Oh Maker,” Hadiza whispered, putting her fingers to her swollen lips. Samuel cleared his throat.

            “Maker indeed. You’ve certainly got a way of putting rivalries to rest, Trevelyan.” He released her and stepped away for a moment, turning his back to her.

            “Andraste’s Tits,” He cursed, “Mayhap ‘twould be best if you…if you went on ahead. I need to gain my bearings.” Hadiza hesitated for a moment, not quite comprehending how a kiss could unhinge a man so, but she would rather ask him about it later…if there was a later. She opened the door and slipped out down the hall quietly, trying not to flee to her room.

            As it happened, she did not make it to her room as Knight Commander Frederick cut her off. Terrified by his sudden appearance, Hadiza nearly ran into him and stumbled backward.

            “Knight Commander!” The words came out in a breathless rush. “Maker’s Breath but you gave me a fright.” Frederick gazed at her evenly, but it was with none of the usual disdain and thinly-veiled malice. Instead he gazed at her with what looked like pity.

            “Lady Trevelyan,” He said and his voice seemed hoarse, “I am afraid I’ve some terrible news to give you.”

            There was a feeling that washed over when he said that, and she somehow _knew_ what the news would be, and yet her stomach lurched all the same when he spoke the words.

            “It’s your mother,” Frederick let down his guard briefly and she saw the insurmountable grief that had taken over him; Maker he had truly loved her mother! “She’s been very ill for the last several weeks. There’ve been measures taken but it seems she has passed away. I’m very sorry.”

            Hadiza nodded numbly. There had been no word from her family since she came here, and she was certain had Frederick not disdained her so he would have helped her correspond with her sister at least. Yet here they were, two people who loved the same woman for different reasons, and all they shared between them was their grief at her passing. It made sense, now, why her father and Frederick no longer spoke.

            “I see…” Hadiza found the strength to get the words out and they passed like paste from her mouth, “…I…thank you for informing me. I…I need to be going.”

            “Of course.” Frederick said, no more wanting to stand there than she did, and Hadiza moved passed him, walking briskly. She did not have to look back to know that the Knight Commander gazed after her.

            By the time she got to her room, Hadiza felt the emptiness inside of herself. Even though she’d not seen nor heard from her family since they’d taken her to the Circle, she had thought all of the old hurt and love had been buried after her Harrowing. Had that not been what she fought in the Fade? The very manifestation of her own rage toward them; the very pride she bore trying to deny that she felt nothing when she knew it for a lie?

            She didn’t weep for some time, still numb to the news, but whenever folk spoke of the Fifth Blight Hadiza felt no fear of darkspawn or Archdemons. No, her personal blight was losing her mother before she ever had a chance to reconcile.

            And it was with that realization that Hadiza did weep.


	10. Unrest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Blight is but a distant distraction--a Ferelden problem. Slight smut ahead.

            The year of the Fifth Blight passed by in a haze for Hadiza, and when she looked back on this year she could barely recognize herself. She wandered the halls of the Circle Tower as if she was in the Fade and this could all vanish when she woke up. The problem was, she never woke up and that was what led to her inevitable disassociation with her fellow mages. There was, however, one bright spot amidst all of this.

            Samuel.

            In truth, it had been bad timing that they had discovered how much they had in common on the same day she received such terrible news, but as it turned out, Samuel was…quite a friend. When word broke that Lady Trevelyan had passed from a wasting sickness that had admittedly taken many of the folk of Ostwick, Samuel had immediately sought Hadiza out. Awkward at first, fumbling over words of comfort until he finally simply sat beside her.

            That was the first time they held hands.

            Hadiza liked Samuel. It was hard not to, once one got to know him. He was witty, blunt, and very thoughtful. He was also fiercely protective of those he cared about and so unlike what she knew when first they met. It had been noted that the bad blood between them had been cleansed and no one dared question when the two of them sat together in the mess hall or the library, heads bent close together, going over one ancient tome or some delicate, yellowed scroll.

            In the moments when they spent time together, it was easy for Hadiza to pack away her grief, store it in a part of her mind she did not accidentally or readily reach for in her day to day routine. Samuel often made an effort to make her laugh and it was on one such day that things changed.

            “You have the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen.” He told her one evening after a late study session. Hadiza blinked, surprised.

            “You think so? I’ve always hated it. It makes me look childish.”

            “You’ve always been beautiful to me. Even when I thought you were being a haughty bitch, I kept thinking to myself ‘Maker, if I didn’t disdain her so I’d beg her to be mine’.” At that, Hadiza did laugh and Samuel smiled his roguish smile. She swatted his arm gently.

            “Lies,” She accused playfully, “Lies and calumny. I bet you weren’t concerned about my looks at all, scowling behind all that lovely hair.”

            Samuel blushed, his cheeks rosy with embarrassment.

            “Ah, so you do have some color to you,” Hadiza teased. Samuel smiled and he leaned in.

            “Yes, though it took you to bring it out of me, my lady.” Their lips met and mayhap it was the thrill of kissing him or the thrill of the fact that there was a Templar patrolling just behind the bookcase, but Hadiza felt life in her again in that moment. Life and those damnable butterflies shaking themselves awake in her belly.

            “Hadiza, we…” Samuel began, “…that is I…” He searched futilely for words and Hadiza pressed her fingers to his mouth to quiet him.

            “Meet me in the place we laid our rivalry to rest,” She told him and left him there to think on what that implied.

            Hadiza felt a thrill of excitement when she went into the storage room where she and Samuel first kissed. She wondered if he felt the same way. The butterflies in her belly would never cease and she didn’t want them to. She liked them there. She liked this feeling that was not quite happy but giddier.

            She giggled to herself and then let out a surprised gasp when the door to the storage room opened. Samuel stood there looking sheepish and nervous and she smiled at him as he shut the door behind him.

            “I figured it would be safer to talk here where there are no ears but our own. I…I was not sure…” She bit her lip, looking down at her feet to smile to herself. Samuel closed the gap and in the space of a single, gasped exhale, took her face in his hands and kissed her. It was like the first time, only there was so much more. Hadiza struggled to keep up, her arms tangling about his neck as she kissed him back feverishly.

            “Hadiza are you sure you want to…” Samuel breathed between each melding of their lips.

            “Yes,” Hadiza exhaled sharply, coming in for another taste of him, “Maker’s Breath, _yes_.” And so it was decided. Samuel was more experienced than she with such matters and so she let him take the lead. As it so happened, he was passing fair in such endeavors if the gossip was to be believed, but Hadiza had no one to compare him to and the other girls seemed to give her a wide berth so she had no one with whom to compare notes.

            His hands were everywhere, touching, caressing, _squeezing_ , and trying to elicit a favorable response from her lips. She felt him lifting her robes to expose her bare legs, his hand traveling roughly up her thigh where his fingers unceremoniously rubbed against the moist area of her sex through her small-clothes. Hadiza, having never even touched herself in such a manner, moaned against his mouth, wracked with a new and pleasant sensation. He tugged her small-clothes aside where his fingers met wet and yielding flesh. Hadiza clung to him, trembling as his finger dipped inside of her, testing her depths with a curious hand. He stroked her, a little to hard and fast and she couldn’t control the movements of her hips against his hand.

            She came with a muffled shout against his neck, and Samuel smiled into her hair. She was as wet as Andraste’s tears, hot as a forge, and tighter than anything he’d ever felt. He’d wanted her for a long time, and now that she was finally giving him a chance he wanted to savor it.

            “Samuel,” She breathed, “I’ve never…no one’s ever…” Samuel pressed a kiss to her temple.

            “So I’ve noticed. Are you sure you want to do this tonight? In here of all places?” He asked, tracing the shape of her sex lightly, delighting in her shivers of aftershock. Hadiza bit her lip. When he put it that way it did seem silly to lose her virginity in a dark storage room covered in dust and cobwebs.

            “I suppose you may be right,” She murmured as she nuzzled his neck, “But where else are we to go. You know fraternization is frowned upon.” She let out a little squeak as Samuel’s finger dipped inside of her again.

            “A fair point,” He said easily, taking pleasure at the expression of hers, “You may call me whatever you wish, but I’ll never have it said I forced a woman against her will.”

            Hadiza felt her heart do something unnerving at that. Still, she appreciated his respect for her uncertainty.

            “Then let’s do it right here, Samuel. Right now.”

 

 

 

            For some days, Hadiza didn’t see Samuel. The year had passed swiftly after that night in the storage room, and Hadiza had crept back to her room, nursing the delicious soreness between her thighs, and thinking back to those long moments in her bed with a mischievous smile and a giddy excitement in her blood. She felt her skin grow flush with warmth when she remembered Samuel’s hands on her body—her bared body—so cool and soft, molding her shape with reverence.

            “Maker if I didn’t know any better, I’d think this an illusion. You’re shaped like a dream!” And then she remembered how immediately after he’d leaned in to take one of her dark, dusky nipples into his mouth and Hadiza never recalled such a sensation thrumming through her before. It was strange and electrifying and she could not wait to feel it again.

            When he’d…when he’d slipped into her, he’d done so with care and she’d gritted her teeth against the new intrusion. It wasn’t long before the discomfort of the unfamiliar gave way to pleasure and she recalled how he’d hooked her leg over his arm and stroked her slow and careful until she was clutching at him to—

            Hadiza buried her face in her pillow and let out a little squeal and then a giggle. Ah, who knew sex felt so good? Is that what her mother and the Knight Commander had done that evening she’d caught them in her father’s study? Seeing the sleek look on her mother’s face it could only be thus.

            Thinking of her mother, however, banished all of the glowing happiness she felt and she lay there in solemnity, bitterly reminded that her mother was gone and she would never have the opportunity to ask her about these things ever again.

            It was a week before she began to worry. Samuel had not been in the usual haunts they frequented together or alone, and no one seemed to know where Samuel was. Hadiza frowned as she sat in the library trying to concentrate on deciphering an elven text on ancient rituals for bringing calm to the caster. However, after thirty solid minutes of fruitless and fitful adjusting in her chair and not being able to tell one vowel from the next from lack of concentration, Hadiza sighed in exasperation and decided to go and look for him. She went first to the male mage’s wing and asked about. No one had seen Samuel, it seemed, and they seemed reluctant to talk to her.

            Here is where Hadiza learned to eavesdrop.

            She left the male wing, but only insofar as they could no longer see her.

            “Can you believe it?” One boy whispered after she’d gone. “I never thought Samuel would go that far, to be honest.”

            Hadiza frowned.

            “Truly?” Another boy asked. “He was practically brought to the Circle barely a toddler, is it any wonder he finally caved?”

            _Caved?_

Hadiza shirked subtlety and rounded the corner, grabbing one of the boys by his robes and shoving him against the wall.

            “Where is he?” She demanded, the wild panic and frustration bleeding into her voice and coloring her emotions wildly outside of the lines. The boy cowered in fear. He was smaller and shorter than Hadiza, and could not have been more than 15. His companion grabbed Hadiza by the shoulder and so help her she took his hand and pressed her thumb into his wrist _hard_. He crumpled in pain.

            “Where is he?” She demanded. “You told me you’d not seen him for some days. You lied. Why?”

            “Hadiza Trevelyan!” A gruff voice said sharply and she immediately released the two boys and turned around. The Knight Commander and the First Enchanter stood side by side, with the Knight Commander glaring daggers at her and the First Enchanter looking like someone’s disappointed grandfather. Her face burned as the two boys stumbled away from her, one straightening out his robes and the other rubbing his sore wrist gingerly.

            “Should take her in with Samuel, I say,” One boy said contemptuously, “He was screwing her after all.”

            “That is enough, Beckett.” The First Enchanter said sternly and the boy fell silent, although his disdain was still palpable.

            “Lady Trevelyan, if you’d please come with us.” Hadiza did not hesitate and never once did she spare the two boys a backward glance as she trailed after the Knight Commander and First Enchanter, a growing sense of foreboding encroaching on her cooling anger.

            The halls were eerily quiet and free of traffic as they went to the First Enchanter’s study.

            “Have a seat, Lady Trevelyan,” The First Enchanter said wearily and at first, Hadiza was hesitant but the look from the Knight Commander had her shrinking in size. She sat.

            “What’s this about, then?” She asked. “Aside from terrorizing those two nug-brained idiots, what have I done wrong?”

            The Knight Commander snorted derisively.

            “We’ll get to _your_ list of sins eventually, Lady Trevelyan. For now, we merely wish to know when was the last time you spoke to Samuel?” Hadiza felt her heart skip a beat. Maker, what had Samuel done?

            “It was about a week ago,” She said softly, “We had…we had been studying together in the library. It grew late so he walked me back to my quarters. His absence did not begin to worry me until today. It is not unusual for him to be…closed off, I think. But no one has seen him and I…is he alright?” Hadiza was worried again and that would soon give way back to frustration and anger. The First Enchanter looked at her kindly.

            “Maker, I pray he is alright, but he is in grave danger and deep trouble, I’m afraid. Just the night before, someone broke into the phylactery chamber. We fear it might have been Samuel. So far as we can tell he has acted alone but he was last seen with you.”

            “Maker!” Hadiza breathed, hand going to her mouth in shock. “You think I would aid him in such a thing? He never voiced his plans to me…nor gave any indication of what he intended to do…” She was getting angry, now. Not at the First Enchanter of the Knight Commander, but at Samuel. He’d taken her virginity, and in all the time they’d been cultivating their friendship had never once breathed a word that he intended to flee the Circle. And somehow he’d managed to get his hands on his phylactery without anyone noticing.

            “We will find him, Lady Trevelyan,” The Knight Commander said in a hard tone, “And rest assured he will be punished to the fullest extent that the Order dictates. A loose mage of his ilk is dangerous to all who cross his path.”

            The First Enchanter frowned and glared at the Knight Commander.

            “Well yes, it has been noted that Samuel has grown…increasingly unstable, but do not speak of mages as if we are animals in a menagerie, Knight Commander. Some of us abide by the stringent rules of the Circle and manage to grow to a ripe old age just fine.” He said in a chastising tone. Hadiza inwardly felt relieved that the First Enchanter defended her—their kind—against the Knight Commander. Frederick sounded just like her father with those prejudiced views; writing every mage off as a bad seed just because one decided freedom was better than this gilded cage of a tower. Yet, she couldn’t help but wonder why Samuel hadn’t said anything to her.

            She left the First Enchanter’s office after being dismissed, and for a time she simply lingered in the hall, hoping to hear whatever words the two leaders exchanged behind the heavy oaken door. She tried not to appear to be straining, catching snatches of the conversation muffled through the thick wood.

            “…she’s telling the truth…” The First Enchanter was saying, “…blame her…”

            “And if she’s deceived us? Do we punish her as well?” The Knight Commander spoke a little louder so she could hear him just fine. The First Enchanter was muttering.

            “…just find him…can’t afford…” Hadiza did not hear the rest and when she heard the Knight Commander approaching the door she darted away, keeping on the balls of her feet as she’d been taught long ago, and she didn’t stop until she was safely in her own quarters, panting and reaching for the pitcher of water she kept on her bedside table.

            So Samuel had left the Circle, and somehow he had either gotten his hand on his phylactery or someone had aided him. She was certain someone had to have aided him. The phylactery chamber was a closely guarded secret and kept within the bowels of the tower itself where none dared tread alone.

            So who had aided him?

            Hadiza dressed down for the evening and decided she would do her own investigation. Mayhap if she helped track down the lead it would put her in the good graces of the Knight Commander, but she was not about to hedge a bet on that. With her mother gone, there was naught left to bind them.

            When she slept, she slipped into the Fade as easily as a mouse through a hole, and this time she felt the difference. On the good nights, she did not dream at all, but on nights such as these, she passed through the Veil. The Fade felt more open than it had during her Harrowing, and she felt the oppressive weight of a hateful presence nearby.

            Pride.

            Hadiza immediately found a need to wake up, but it was to no avail. She’d have to finish what was begun three years past. With her staff at her back, she prepared the spells in her mind for casting. The ground beneath her feet rumbled with each heavy step the demon took. In the distance, the Black City loomed, ominous and inaccessible, as it had been since the time of the Magisters.

            This setting would be fitting for her showdown with Pride.

            “At last, the delicious little dove returns to let me claim my prize,” The demon hissed as it came into view. It loomed impossibly larger than she, horns reaching toward the sky, skin purple and rippling with muscle and corruption. Many thought most demons to be mindless, brute creatures, but Hadiza had learn that was not so. While some demons was a simple evil, Pride and its fellows like Desire and Rage were deadly because not only were they evil, they were fully aware of it and took delight in this.

            Pride was an evil that _thought_.

            “I see you thinking, little dove, wondering if I am here to hold you captive or devour you. I will make this simple: I will do both. I will split your skin and bone and wallow in your empty husk. And you will have all of this to yourself: The Fade, the Black City, all of it. Yours to play with; all you must needs do is accept the power I offer.”

            Hadiza wished she could believe the demon because power was exactly what she needed.

            “Accept your offer to give me that which none have the right to claim?” She gestured to the Black City, a paltry shadow of what it must have been like when it was palpable. The Pride demon snarled at her, electricity crackling all over its body. Hadiza silently assessed it as it charged up, quickly wracking the archives of her memory. Pride demons were storm-based, so they had immunity to most primal elements except—

            “Oh!” She cried as she dove off to the side as a ball of lightning carved a burned path clear through where she’d just been standing. Pride roared, clearly displeased.

            “Not going to make it easy for me, are you?” It growled, charging up again. Hadiza stumbled behind an outcropping of rock, catching her breath. She heard Pride moving, lumbering slowly in an attempt to find her. She wracked her brain again. This was third level apprentice shit, she had to remember for her own sake or the Templar guarding her room was going to earn his pay.

            Fire!

            Hadiza charged up a firestorm and aimed from around her hiding spot. She cast it and the Pride demon shrieked at the sudden conflagration, the shield it wore eaten away in a crackle of electricity and flame. Hadiza bit her lip, smiling.

            “What the matter?” She called, “Not everything you wished for?”

            Pride’s answering wore seemed to shake the very air before her for she felt it reverberate through the soles of her feet to the roots of her hair.

            Maker’s Breath it was cross with her!

            Hadiza readied another spell, this time a low-intensity fireball. She’d chip away at him if it meant she could brag about this l—no. She had to show humility and defeat Pride fair and square. She could carry this as a badge of pride later but for now, she had to keep herself humble.

            Pride charged at her and she dove again, but this time she felt a claw wrap around her leg in a grip that could only rival a mountain as she was snatched out of midair. Pride tossed her into the air and Hadiza felt…oddly calm.

            She cast an arcane shield, then rock armor, and came back down to bring her fist to the demon’s exposed face.

            She hadn’t fought in years, but her body seemed to remember. And this was the Fade…she could do anything.

            Pride stumbled and Hadiza landed, her arms, legs, and chest covered in magically summoned stone armor, which rippled like liquid to adjust to her body’s movements. Her stone fist burst into flames as she summoned a firestorm.

            Pride burned. Pride burned brightly and Hadiza felt there was a lesson to be learned here. As it shrieked and began to break down, she stood, watching. Perhaps this was the true Harrowing.

            The Fade began to fall apart around her suddenly and then there was a feeling of falling _upwards_ …

            As she sat up in bed, gasping, a hand covered her mouth.

            “Shhh!” A voice hissed and Hadiza blinked, bleary-eyed as her bedmate came into focus.

            It was Samuel.


	11. Blood

Hadiza was only beginning to draw her clothes back on when she realized what was happening. Samuel was hooded, but she could see the glitter of his dark eyes in the failing candlelight.

            “Samuel, what in Andraste’s name are you doing here?” Hadiza demanded. “And where have you been?!” She wanted to hit him, wanted to kiss him, wanted to throw her arms around him. Then she remembered the Knight Commander’s words and the cold grip of fear took all of her sense away.

            “I’ve been hiding,” Samuel explained as he pulled on his boots. Hadiza slipped into her under-robe, wrapping her arms around him from behind and resting her chin on his shoulder.

            “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you give me a sign that you’d…do this?” She asked him. Samuel sighed and took a deep breath.

            “The truth was, I hadn’t planned on…this…us, I mean. I thought hating you would go on forever and make leaving easier. But while I was gone, I thought…I couldn’t enjoy my freedom and leave you here to rot.” Samuel turned to her, kissing her face almost reverently. Hadiza basked in it because this was what love felt like and she’d never felt it before and Samuel made her feel as if she mattered…as if anything she did mattered.

            “Come with me.” He said suddenly. Hadiza blinked, trying to comprehend for what he was implying.

            “Hadiza, this is no life for you, for any of us. You grew up outside the Circle. Most of us here have never breathed the free air, not since we were but a babe-in-arms. You…please…there are others out there. Others who roam beneath the skies of Thedas. No Templars, no Circle, no Chantry to bind us to a slow death in a stone tower.”

            Hadiza was becoming increasingly worried.

            “Samuel, you speak of apostates. You know what happens when apostates are caught? Is a life on the run really…?” She trailed off, the memory opening like a violent bloom, unbidden. She was a 14 year old girl again, packing her bags in a fury, preparing for a journey to wherever she could get away from the life that now bound her.

            Samuel had never considered the price of his escape, had never considered anything beyond freedom.

            “Did you break into the phylactery chamber?” She asked him. Samuel was quiet but when his eyes darted from hers she knew.

            “Andraste’s Tears…” She whispered. “Do you know what they’ll do to you if they catch you, Samuel? There will be no leniency shown. The Knight Commander is already out for your blood.” The candle burned lower, almost to the last mark. Samuel smiled in the darkness.

            “I have ways of escaping. I can be more powerful than any Templar in this Circle. I have already escaped them once. I would do so again…but I need you at my side, Hadiza. Once you are outside and beyond their reach you will understand. There are others, we can meet them, we can be happy together.”

            Hadiza knew what he was implying and felt her stomach lurch as she considered it. Had he been planning this all along?

            “Samuel, what have you done?” She asked him. “What sort of happiness is there to be found living in constant fear that one day we will be caught? At least here…at least here they cannot harm us without legitimate reason.” Hadiza never thought she’d find herself defending the Circle, despite the rumors she heard about what happened within, but in the face of Samuel’s increasing madness, she had no choice.

            “And what reasons do they claim here that they would not claim anywhere else?” Samuel stood up. “I’m leaving again, tonight. This time I will not come back, Hadiza.” Hadiza hesitated. She wasn’t sure what to do. If she ran to get the Knight Commander, there was no telling what Samuel would do to her retreating back. If she stayed, what if Samuel deemed her a risk to his plans and decided to silence her?

            Hadiza had a choice to make and so she did the only thing she could: she took his hand.

            “I knew you’d see reason,” He said with a relieved sigh. Hadiza bit her lip.

            “What of my phylactery?” She asked. “It would be pointless to escape if they could track me, wouldn’t it?” She was pulling on her boots, now, grabbing her staff and strapping it to her back. She was formulating the plan as they stalked down the dark halls, passing the circle of light of a torch every few yards, and it was only then Hadiza noticed something different about Samuel. His skin, which was natural pale but always with a flush of color, was tight and drawn, pallid, as if he were…as if he were drained.

            “When was the last time you slept, Samuel?” She asked, genuinely concerned. Where had he been these past two weeks? What had he been doing? And who were these apostate mages he kept hearing about?

            Samuel’s only reply was a grunt as he led Hadiza down the halls toward the main stairwell.

            “They thought they were clever,” He muttered, mostly to himself, “Hiding a secret stairwell on one of the less-occupied floors. It is the only way down to the phylactery chamber and if you aren’t trying to find it, you’d miss it.” Had led Hadiza up one flight and down a hallway that looked exactly the same as the one they’d come from. It was no wonder folks got lost here. Everything was designed to look unassumingly identical.

            “How did you find it?” She asked him. Samuel smiled that smug smile but Hadiza cringed at how his face looked so…gaunt in the firelight.

            “I have been in the Circle since I was a child. At first, I thought it mere habit or mayhap a meeting room for both the Templars and the Senior Enchanters. But I watched the new arrivals too. When they led them to that room I knew. It was simply a matter of evading the patrols and prying eyes.”

            “But what of the wards on the doors? The sentinels?”

            “Nothing a fire rod can’t pierce, and the sentinels succumb to ice as if they too were made of flesh. Don’t worry my love,” He turned to Hadiza, cupping her face in one hand, “I won’t let anything happen to you. I told you: I’m stronger than any Templar.” Hadiza highly doubted that as she had physically overpowered Samuel with ease but mayhap he spoke of his magical ability.

            Even so, she doubted he had as much power as he claimed.

            They clung to the shadowy corners and Hadiza was put into mind of her failed escape from Trevelyan Manor all those years ago. Unconsciously, she rubbed her arm, which had long since healed, but she swore she could still feel the soreness. She’d used her years in the Circle trying to regain her arm’s former strength. It had not been easy—mages were not warriors after all—but Knight Commander Frederick had allowed her that at least. It was not up to full fighting strength yet, but she was still much stronger physically than most of the mages her age who had spent their years strengthening their minds over their bodies.

            When they arrived at the secret stairwell, Samuel turned to her.

            “The patrols were light to nonexistent tonight; it seems the Maker smiles upon us after all.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and squeezed.

            “Soon you’ll be free and we can escape this place.” Hadiza saw the hope in his eyes, the adoration. What was _wrong_ with him? She smiled, trying her best to appear sincere when truly she was terrified. Instead, she let him lead her, let herself believe that maybe by some chance the plan would work. She could destroy her phylactery and leave the Circle.

            But where would she go?

            The Free Marches were all she knew. The sudden realization of having so many possibilities open to her led Hadiza to believe that this was a good idea. And yet…

            “Once we destroy your phylactery, everything else will be easier. It won’t matter what they do; without your blood they cannot find you,” Samuel was saying but Hadiza was wondering just how he planned to smuggle them out of here.

            She didn’t have to wonder long, as they reached the false floor. Outside of the tower, it appeared there were merely five floors based on its circular structure. With this secret stairway there were actually six, and this was where the phylactery chamber was located.

            Unfortunately, they were not to find it, for waiting for them was the Knight Commander and a full coterie of Templars. He looked grim and foreboding as always, but now…Hadiza felt her heart seize up in her chest. Maker! Oh now he’d have an excuse!

            “Samuel Cainwright,” The Knight Commander said coldly, and Hadiza startled having never heard Samuel’s surname before, “You will halt immediately to be taken into custody. Hadiza Trevelyan…” He narrowed his eyes at her and Hadiza felt several feet smaller under his gaze. Nodding to his men, he said nothing more and the Templars stepped forward. Samuel jerked Hadiza by the arm roughly, offsetting her balance and giving him time to act.

            “You’ll not keep me here anymore! A circular prison tower is no way for us to live!” From his robes he withdrew a dagger, simple in make, but gleaming sharp. Hadiza’s eyes widened. Samuel couldn’t even hold his own against her barehanded, and she was certain he’d never learned to wield even the smallest blade in his insulated life here in the Circle.

            Of course, this was not his intent.

            Samuel slashed his arm and then hers and Hadiza jerked herself free, but it was too late…

            “Blood mage!” The Knight Commander hissed and Samuel began to gather the magic. Unlike a lyrium-fueled casting, blood magic required one’s very life force or that of a sacrifice to be truly potent. Samuel had his free-flowing blood and Hadiza’s to draw upon. The only problem was that too much use would corrupt and eventually kill the caster. Hadiza knew enough about Samuel to see that he intended to damn them both.

            She worked on a counter spell, only to feel her access to the Fade blocked, and her body crumpled as the air grew thin. Samuel cried out, but it came out choked and strangled as the Templars around them cast a Silence spell to suppress their magic. Hadiza felt the wind rush out of her lungs, and for a moment all the color seemed to be sucked from the world and the sound seemed muted and muffled in her ears as she crumpled to the ground. All at once the color and sound rushed back and she gasped for breath, her mana drained and her body feeling hollow and starved for lyrium to replenish it. Beside her, Samuel lay, curled on his side, crying out. Both were yanked roughly to their feet. Knight Commander Frederick stared at Hadiza hard, his one good eye pitiless and dead.

            “Knight-Commander,” A Templar said as he restrained Hadiza who put up no fight but was handled roughly anyway, “Orders?”

            “This one’s a blood mage, Commander,” Another said to Frederick as she revealed the old scarring on Samuel’s arms, faded and some new. They were slight, likely made with a flechette blade, but they were evidence. Hadiza felt sick.

            “What of the girl?” He asked, not looking at her.

            “No signs of harm from blood magic. Could be his thrall. Shall we execute them now, Commander?”

            Hadiza felt her stomach bottom out. Samuel briefly jerked, but the Templar who held him planted his weight and held him fast. Knight Commander Frederick considered a moment and glanced at Hadiza.

            “Imprison them separately for now. Bind and gag them. We’ll interrogate them first, see if they’ll lead us to any other blood mages that may be hiding amongst the lot.”

            “Aye ser!” And Hadiza felt herself grow numb as she was hauled off to the dungeons below the tower, stripped of her clothing and given little more than a burlap sack to wear in place of her fine robes. They bound her hands and feet in chains, and gagged her so she could not whisper spells or cast. Not that she would, but with no mana she was too weak to do aught but wait. The prison cell was dark and dank, and she was given little more than a pile of hay to lay on—it was blessedly dry!—and a hole in the corner to relieve herself. Hadiza uncovered the hole and peered one and the smell that came from it was overpowering enough to burn her nose. She covered the hole again and went to sit gingerly on her pile of straw. Drawing her knees to her chest, she put her head down and hid her face.

            And then she cried silently. How had everything gone so wrong so quickly?


	12. Alone

            She was uncertain how much time passed while she was in that cell. Later, she learned it had only been two days. In those agonizing hours she saw no one and heard nothing. She was fed once a day through a slot beneath the old door to her cell, where a tray was slid. The food was subpar, and it generally consisted of a porridge not even fit for a dog. She kept to herself in the corner, her fear giving way to anger and then looping back to fear once more. She could no more figure out what would become of her than she could do anything else.

            On the second day, she was escorted out of her cell into another dank, windowless room furnished only with a single table and two chairs across from one another. There was a lantern hanging from a rusted hook in the wall, casting an eerie combination of light and shadow about the room. Her chains jangled as she was sat down. In the next moment, Knight Commander Frederick entered the room.

            He sat across from her, looking no less cruel than he had when he’d had her arrested.

            “Miss Trevelyan,” He said coolly and she blinked at him, “You know why you’re here.” It was a statement, not a question. Hadiza nodded, scarcely willing to believe how her life was completely wrong right now.

            “Your friend, Samuel, has been caught as a blood mage. As you have none of the telltale signs of self-harm involved with blood magic, I can only assume you were under his thrall when he attempted to break into the phylactery chamber again. As such, you are not being accused of using blood magic.”

            “I’m sorry?” Hadiza couldn’t be sure she heard right.

            “You are the victim in this situation, but I cannot allow your compliance to go unpunished. It has come to my attention that the two of you are—or were—lovers. Is this true?” Hadiza felt as if someone were scraping away her mind, trying to get at the information within. She was offended to say the least.

            “I don’t see what that has to do with the fact that Samuel is a blood mage,” She said harshly, “You’re just going to kill him anyway. But I wonder…” She leaned forward, emboldened by her anger.

            “What’s the price for fucking my mother, Knight Commander? What happened when my father found out about the two of you?”

            There was no satisfaction like the one she had in that moment, watching the line around the man’s mouth go white with rage as his jaw set and his cheeks colored. She had wounded him. Good. But then, the Knight Commander went still, and the stillness was not so much as an intake of breath so much as it seemed the entire world had just…stopped. He pinioned her with a look that felt like it was a spear through her soul.

            “I hold your life in the palm of my hand, Trevelyan,” He said in a low, dangerous voice, “If you think calling up the ghost of a sin for which I have long since atoned will sway me then you will be sorely disappointed. Your lover is a blood mage and he will pay for it with his life. And if you are found to be compromised, then I will not hesitate to deliver the final blow to you myself.”

            Hadiza sat back, and she knew true fear. She was but a child playing a game. He had long years of experience and she had only a noble woman’s wit. The threats of death were something she was new to. She could not be sure if she could kill a flesh and blood human being.

            How much mage-blood was on Frederick’s hands?

            “Now, I trust you know your studies will be restricted and a watch will be doubled in the coming weeks as a result of your foolishness?”

            “I understand.” She said hollowly. The Knight Commander stood up, gesturing to the Templar by the door. Hadiza was startled when a gauntleted hand clamped her shoulder, hauling her to her feet and leading her out of the room.

 

 

            Hadiza had been returned her robes and escorted back to her room, only this wasn’t her room, it was a single room on the second floor that had clearly been recently used for storage. Her bed, chest, wardrobe, and other furniture had been moved to it. There was no privy, and she was told she’d be escorted by a Templar guard to use the one down the hall…in essence, while she had the privacy of her own chamber it was no less a prison cell. She’d been quarantined from her fellow mages and the patrols had been doubled as a result of Samuel’s perfidy. Her studies had been restricted to creation magic only, which she did not mind, and she still was allowed access to the main library with an escort.

            She found herself worrying over Samuel’s fate. Had they killed him? The penalty for being caught using blood magic was death, of a surety, and the Knight Commander had only spared her because he assumed she had been a thrall. But what of Samuel? There was no reason to spare him for such a transgression?

            “Why’d you do it, Sam?” She muttered as she sat at her desk, scribbling an alchemical recipe for a potion that could counter the stomach sickness.

            As she thumbed through the slim tome, she realized she’d need more insight to one of the herbs necessary for the recipe and moved to get up. Her door locked from the outside and thus she had to knock to inform her Templar guard she needed to go to the library. His name was Bronson, she learned one day, and while he was a young Templar, he was very devoted to his duty. He’d not be swayed by what Frederick called ‘witch eyes and a curved mouth’, and so Hadiza and Bronson exchanged few words during the first few days.

            “You know,” She said as he escorted her to the library, “I’m not corrupted nor am I a blood mage. I just want to live my life quietly. You won’t die if you speak to me.” Ser Bronson didn’t even hesitate or spare her a sideways glance, but she saw his jaw work as he set it in resolution. He kept her rusty golden hair cropped close to his head, and he had a very austere profile, looking like the quintessential Templar Knight that inspired young boys to swear themselves to the Order.

            When Hadiza got to the library, it was quiet save for a few apprentices whispering at one of the tables over a large tome, pointing to a passage here and there and arguing over the interpretation. There was a set of steps leading up to the third floor, but a Templar stood guard in front of it. The third floor was for senior enchanters only and only one on official business or with high enough rank would gain access.

            As usual, Bronson took up his post by each aisle as Hadiza browsed, searching for the book she needed.

            “Is there aught I can assist you with, Lady Trevelyan?” A voice asked. Hadiza turned and nigh bit her tongue on a scream. Samuel stood there, staring at her through blank eyes, and she gazed in horror at the sunburst symbol of the Chantry freshly branded between his brows.

            “No…” She whispered, horrified and sick, “No…!” And then she fled. She ignored Bronson’s shout for her to slow down, heard him pelting after her, his plate armor crunching, but Hadiza was not going back to her rooms.

            She ran until she reached the Knight Commander’s office. Heedless of the closed door she flung it open. The First Enchanter and the Knight Commander were engaged in a meeting, it seemed, but Hadiza did not care.

            “Tranquil?!” She shouted accusingly, “Is that your idea of mercy, Knight-Commander?” Frederick said nothing and instead glanced past her to Bronson, who had just caught up, panting somewhat.

            “My Lady,” He breathed, “Knight-Commander! My deepest apologies! I didn’t think she would…”

            “That’s quite alright,” The First Enchanter said softly. “Lady Trevelyan, what seems to be the problem?” Hadiza glanced between the two faction leaders, disbelieving. How could they be so calm and cavalier about this?

            “First Enchanter, don’t be coy!” She snapped. “Samuel…he’s…he’s…” She hadn’t realized until right then how much she cared for him, despite his being a blood mage. She had seen in him the potential of a truly good man and they had taken it from him. Her hand went to her mouth as she blinked away tears that were already falling.

            “Samuel? Ah…oh my dear, I’m so sorry. It must have come as a shock to you. I could not allow the boy to be killed. This was a much more humane punishment. He is allowed to live.”

            Hadiza couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

            “How is this more humane, First Enchanter? He isn’t even aware of his…he’s barely human anymore. And you let that barbarian masquerading as a knight do this to him! Better to have executed him and be done with it. Anything is better than a living beheading.”

            At that, the Knight Commander did growl menacingly.

            “And what of your own punishment, Trevelyan? It is only by the grace of your family’s name and the First Enchanter that you do not bear the Chantry’s brand upon your brow as well. And you can think on my _mercy_ when Ser Bronson escorts you back to your chambers.” He gave a curt nod and the young Templar took Hadiza gently by the elbow, leading her out of the office and shutting the door behind them.

            As they walked, Hadiza passed other mages in the halls, wondering if they knew. She was not ashamed of her relationship with Samuel, and quite the contrary, she had begun to love him. She had just vastly disapproved of his methods of escape. With careful planning they could have been together without the use of blood magic.

            At her door, Ser Bronson unlocked it and opened it for her.

            “What would you have done, Ser Bronson, in the Knight-Commander’s place?” Hadiza asked. Bronson hesitated as if he would ignore her again but seeing her tear-stained face, he opted to show her some modicum of sympathy.

            “My lady you loved the lad, and you and your lot rarely get any freedom to do much else than wander about with your noses in books—so I’ve no right to blame you for seeking comfort in this place. Your boy was a blood mage and the Order dictates clearly what’s supposed to happen when he’s caught. Tranquility is no way to live, my lady.” He said to her gently, lowering his voice during those last words. Hadiza gave him a firm nod.

            “Thank you, Ser Bronson,” She murmured, “It’s good to know not all Templars view us as disasters waiting to happen.” And with that, she retreated to her private prison, forgetting her alchemical studies and retiring to her dreams for the remainder of the evening.


	13. Wounded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hadiza excels as a Creation mage and spirit healer, and is drafted to work in the healing wards of the Circle during her probation.

            Hadiza discovered she was inordinately talented with Creation magic.

            While her studies had been restricted to the school of magic where she could cause the least harm, Hadiza found that it was a school that she reveled in and brought her the most joy. She became well versed in various herbs, everything from how to soothe burns to helping ease the pain of the moon cycle, as well as basic setting of broken bones. It was this gift that garnered the attention of the Senior Healer, a woman named Elaine.

            Elaine was a spirit healer and thus overseer of all who came in seeking her aid. She had three healers under her supervision, Hadiza included, and each specialized in various aspects of healing. Hadiza spoke to none of the others, at first; they were but faces to her, more symbols of the life she did not want. Elaine set Hadiza to mixing poultices at first, gauging the young woman’s strengths and weaknesses.

            “You are not to cast any spells without myself or another faculty member present,” Elaine told her imperiously as Hadiza stood in her tiny office, looking for all the world as if there were nothing interesting going on.

            “Miss Trevelyan, am I understood?” Elaine’s face, lined with age, her white hair pulled in a taut and unforgiving chignon at her nape, was pitiless; this was something at odds with her natural gift as a spirit healer. Hadiza blinked as if coming out of a dream.

            “Yes, madam.” She murmured, her voice hollow. Elaine went back to scribbling on the parchment.

            “Jacqueline can guide you on how to mind the poultices and potions,” She continued without looking up, “try not to get underfoot and you may be elevated to be able to cast healing magic on the infirm. Your stint with the maleficar has earned you much doubt and enmity within these walls and I’ll not have it said I brought corruption into my ward.”

            Hadiza winced. So they thought she had enabled Samuel, then. She tried not to think of the badge of her guilt and shame branded on the man’s forehead while he wandered about, tending to the seemingly endless bookshelves in the main library. Everyone knew, and everyone saw her to blame for Samuel’s descent into corruption. Suddenly, her anger welled in her, bubbling up like magma in her veins, her breathing ragged, her face burning.

            “I had nothing to do with his corruption, madam,” Hadiza said quietly, “I merely paid a price for loving the wrong person. I’m not the one who became a blood mage, and for you to be so cavalier about it as if I am the one at fault is—“

            “Be silent!” Elaine’s eyes, a brilliant and unnerving shade of green, flashed. Hadiza immediately tensed. She had trained as a warrior for the better part of her life; she _wished_ Elaine were foolish enough to physically test her. Hadiza felt herself grow bitter, inwardly cackling recklessly. She wanted to hit someone—anyone it seemed—lash out for all that had been taken from her.

            “I do not care for the excuses you will make for Samuel’s actions, nor for your own. I am told you are gifted in the school of Creation magic, and that is all that I care for. Should you show any signs that you are unfit or…unmanageable, I will dismiss you from my service and you can find somewhere else to waste away. It makes little difference to me. Now, get to work. There’s work to be done and you’ve wasted enough time.”

            Hadiza left, trembling with rage, wishing for a moment of expedient anger that she truly was capable of possession and corruption. She had never wanted to physically harm someone so much in her life as she did in that moment. As she stalked back to the main ward, her anger burned itself out to a low simmer, still scalding, but not all-consuming. That’s when Jacqueline found her. She was a pretty mage, plump with large, brown eyes that reminded Hadiza of a horse’s gaze, gentle and warm. Her hair was a spray of frizzy curls, and she wore robes that were surprisingly vibrant, a soft pink, inlaid with silver stitching. Her skin was the same color as Hadiza’s, and across her round nose was a dusting of black freckles.

            “Oh!” She giggled. “You must be Hadiza! I’m Jacqueline! I’m in charge of all the potions and poultices in the apothecary part of the ward. I guess you met Miss Elaine?” There was a change of tone in her voice when she asked and Hadiza understood it to be slightly sympathetic.

            “Yes…” She said hesitatingly. “She’s…”

            “A right piece of work, right?” Jacqueline laughed. “Come on, let me show you the apothecary. The work’s simple enough, it’s inventory that takes up most of the time, but at least it’s quiet, and no Templars to bother us, eh?”

            “I would not be so quick to say that, Miss Jacqueline.” Hadiza flinched but then relaxed as Ser Bronson made his presence known. She had almost forgotten about him, she was so used to him quietly following her about.

            “Are you not bored to tears being assigned to be my shadow, Ser Bronson?” Hadiza asked him. The young Templar shrugged, as stalwart as ever in his duty.

            “Alright,” Jacqueline said, seemingly undaunted, “Perhaps _one_ Templar isn’t so bad. Just don’t get in the way with all that armor, hm?”

            Ser Bronson’s lips twitched in a wry smirk and Jacqueline turned to lead the way. Hadiza could not help but wonder what might have happened had she and Samuel escaped. With her mother dead, there would be no welcome back at the Trevelyan estate and they’d send her right back to the Circle. But where could she go? Thedas was such a large place, and she’d only seen a tiny fraction of it.

            This Circle—this _prison_ —was her life…was all their lives that were cursed with the gift of the arcane. Yet, she felt she was the only one who saw it that way. Everyone else seemed to accept it. From the Templars who grimly set about their duty, to Miss Elaine, who seemed more inclined to work within the Circle than offer any true comfort.

            Hadiza sighed, running her fingers through her hair.

            Thus began her days as a spirit healer.


End file.
